


Vokara, Vader, Victory

by SorciereMystique



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Anakin and his droids, BAMF old ladies, Crack and Angst, Darth Vader Lives, Darth Vader Redemption, Force Ghost Obi-Wan loves to troll, Force Healing (Star Wars), Gen, Leia is Ahsoka's padawan, Leia struggles with the Dark Side, No Smut, Obi-Wan Kenobi Can Sing, Parent Darth Vader, Plo Koon Lives, Post-Canon Fix-It, Singing Force-ghost, Skywalker Family Feels (Star Wars), Stressed Firmus Piett, background Han/Leia, background Kanera, casually ableist Amilyn Holdo, everyone misses Padme, family caregiver Luke, internal Jedi Order tribunal for Darth Vader, medical miracles involving the Force, the Dark Side is a drug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:41:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29831994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SorciereMystique/pseuds/SorciereMystique
Summary: Luke Skywalker finds himself trying to evacuate both himself and his dying father from the second Death Star following the Battle of Endor. At this moment, he remembers that Old Ben Kenobi had taught him the basics of Force-healing. Having thus stabilized his father’s condition enough to bring him to the field hospital in the Rebel Alliance base, he and the rest of the Rebellion must figure out what to do with the former Darth Vader. Enter Vokara Che, now 75, who finally has her most challenging case yet as a healer. Leia struggles with her decidedly Dark feelings about her birth father, while Ahsoka is a voice of reason, gently encouraging her old master to be more-or-less Anakin again, while helping the Skywalker twins deal. Other Jedi survivors come out of the woodwork for an internal Jedi tribunal of sorts, with the whole galaxy watching.Or: Never underestimate little old ladies.
Relationships: Ahsoka Tano & Darth Vader, Anakin Skywalker | Darth Vader & Luke Skywalker, Ezra Bridger & Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Leia Organa & Anakin Skywalker | Darth Vader, Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker & Han Solo
Comments: 62
Kudos: 82





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Being a Prequels-era Obi-Wan fangirl I don't normally write OT stories, but this one came out. It is pro-Jedi, pro-Obi-Wan, pro-forgiveness all around. I am also a fan of Force-healing and regenerative crystals, anything magical rather than science-y in the Star Wars universe. I love Vokara Che and thought it would be fun if she had survived Order 66 and gotten her hands on post-ROTJ Vaderkin. I am not a medical professional by any stretch of the imagination but have experienced eldercare as a family caregiver. I just want the Skywalkers to be a family, dangnabbit!  
> Also, I have never liked Han Solo so his appearances are fairly minimal in this story.

Deathtroopers in black ran every which way, but Luke hardly noticed them. He struggled with his father’s arm draped over his shoulder, that black suit weighing them both down. Darth Vader, the most feared monster in the galaxy, inscrutable and menacing behind the mask, was just a man. To Luke he was so much more than a villain with breathing problems, but not even the Emperor had truly understood that.

Finally Vader’s artificial knee gave way and he sank to the floor, dragging Luke down with him. Luke let out an involuntary moan. People continued to run. Oh, right. They needed to evacuate the ship.

Luke carefully extracted himself from his father’s quite literally iron grip and scrambled to his feet, trying to shut out the ambient panic in the Force as he dragged his father by the arms onto the gangplank of the escape pod. Do or do not, there is no try. Luke thought of that cave on Dagobah where he faced his own fearful conjuring of the mighty Sith lord. Said Sith lord was in fact merely his own severely disabled father. Everyone had been wrong, not least Vader himself.

The suit made Vader too heavy to drag. The front panel of Luke’s shirt had come unhooked, allowing the white lining to peek through as the fabric panel flopped down. Luke could feel the sweat trickling down his face, into his eyes. It burned more than tears would have. He continued to struggle with his father’s heavy form, only succeeding in getting him to sit up.

“Luke,” Vader began in that terrifying baritone. “Help me take this mask off.”

“But you’ll die.” Luke felt a spike of worry in his heart. Much of the galaxy would welcome the prospect of a dead Vader, but Luke no longer saw a monster. Here was the father he had never known, the man he had longed to meet properly, to understand. If he died, that chance to love and forgive would be gone forever.

“Nothing can stop that now. Just for once, let me look on you with my own eyes.” Vader’s breath was ragged, even through the vocoder.

Blaster fire continued in the distance as Luke nodded and removed the outermost helmet with a hiss. There was still a black plasteel unit that completely covered his father’s head. Luke frowned in concentration as he unclasped it at the bottom and gently lifted it off. There was a creepy crinkling noise as Luke peeled it away, revealing the palest face he had ever seen.

There was a still-red gash—no, a scar—on Anakin Skywalker’s bald head and his blue eyes were red-rimmed and watery. Luke gazed into the eyes for a long moment. Frankly he was not sure what he had expected, but the eyes were still a surprise. These were the same blue eyes that Luke saw in the mirror, only much sadder.

“Now, go, my son.” Vader spoke with great effort, his real voice much softer than the harsh snarl of the vocoder. “Leave me.”

“No. You’re coming with me. I’ll not leave you here, I’ve got to save you.”

“You already have, Luke. You were right, you were right about me. Tell your sister you were right.” Vader closed his eyes. The skin of his eyelids looked purple and flaky as pain registered on his face.

“Father.” Luke addressed him. “I won’t leave you.”

Vader began to sink back down, gasping softly. Luke shook his head, focusing on his own cybernetic hand stroking his father’s body. He bowed his head. That was when he heard a faint voice in his mind. “Use the Force, Luke.” He would know that voice anywhere. Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Luke placed his flesh hand on his father’s forehead and drew on the Force, the way the two ghosts had taught him, entering a healing trance. Vader sputtered and revived just enough to drag onto the ship.

Once on the ship, safely in hyperspace, Luke returned to his father’s side for another intense burst of Force-healing. If he expended too much energy on each bout Luke himself would become an invalid, so he would have to pace himself. Besides, he had never tried Force-healing before. He knew that this was not his strong suit as a Jedi, but he needed it to work. Leia had never truly met their father, at least, not as such. Luke channeled his love and hope, confident that these emotions were of the Light.

* * *

Leia felt a strange disquiet as she watched her brother’s ship land on Endor. There was another presence on that ship, one at once familiar and qualitatively different. She had not known that she was Force-sensitive until recently, but she had many years of sensing people. It was a vital skill as a spy senator, after all. She frowned as she concentrated on the other presence.

When the gangplank came down and Luke appeared, she gasped. There was a person floating behind him, black cape dangling down, flapping in the breeze. She would know that figure anywhere. Darth Vader. What was Luke thinking?

“Hey, I need a medical team. Father needs emergency care.” Luke called to the crowd of rebels who had come to meet him as he floated his father out of the ship, holding him steady until a stretcher could be brought. Once he was satisfied that his father was taken care of, he descended the gangplank and joined his sister.

“Luke? What are you thinking? I hope you know what you’re doing.” Leia crossed her arms and stood straight, looking imposing for someone of her stature. “And if I were you, I wouldn’t go around telling people that my father is Darth Vader.”

“It’s all right. He’s all right. He’s on our side now. Well, at least, he’s on my side. He’ll love you, too. He knows I have a sister but he doesn’t know that’s you. He killed the Emperor, Leia. I think he deserves another chance.”

Leia shook her head and said nothing. That monster could not possibly be her father, not in a way that mattered. No, he had been complicit in the death of her real father, Bail Organa. It was hard to imagine the rest of the rebels accepting Darth Vader, not unless everyone was convinced that he had truly had a change of heart and had something useful to contribute. Resources were scarce enough as it was.

“Does this mean the Empire is going to collapse on its own? I don’t think so. We have work to do, Luke.”

Later, when Luke had a free moment, he slipped into their makeshift medical facility to check up on his father. He had an oxygen mask strapped to his face and he seemed to be either asleep or unconscious. Luke gently picked up one of the cybernetic hands in his own artificial hand. They had a long way to go, but at least now they had a chance to be a family.

When Luke emerged from the medical center, Han was waiting for him. “Hey, kid, I’m glad you survived. Leia told me about our new POW.”

Luke smiled sadly and shook his head. “She’s decided to frame it like that, huh? Darth Vader—Anakin Skywalker—is my father. Of course I brought him home. We defeated the Emperor together, my father and I.”

“You mean he just up and quit being evil?” Han was smirking now. From his tone it was clear that he did not believe that Darth Vader, evil Sith lord, war criminal, mass murderer, _that_ Darth Vader, could one day just randomly decide to be Luke’s cuddly, harmless old dad.

“Yeah. He’s not really evil. I saw it in his eyes. I was right, there still was good in him. I love him, Han. He’s still my father.”

“I hope you’re right.” Han shook his head. Then he caught sight of Leia out of the corner of his eye. “Hey, Leia.”

Leia joined them, which meant a round of hugs for all. Han smiled at Leia sadly. “You love him, don’t you?”

“You mean Luke? Yes, yes I do.” Leia smiled in fondness.

Han’s facial muscles twitched in an attempt to shift his sadness into a smile. “All right. I understand. Fine. Now that we have him back alive, I won’t get in the way.”

Luke started chuckling. Leia flashed a mischievous grin once Han’s intent registered. “Oh, it’s not like that at all! He’s my brother.” Leia pulled Han closer to her and drew him into a kiss. Han continued to look shellshocked and confused for a moment before he gave himself over to the kiss. He would worry about the implications of this later. If Darth Vader was Luke’s father and Luke was Leia’s brother—oh well. That could wait. Tonight, they would celebrate.

In the evening the Ewoks joined them for a victory celebration, singing and dancing. Luke hugged his sister, then Han. Han would soon be his brother as well. Luke noticed that Han was picking up on Leia’s pensive mood. Luke gently reached out to Leia’s mind through the Force. She would need training, but he could see to that. As his twin sister Leia was nearly as strong in the Force as he was, after all.

Aha, it was just as he thought. Leia was still processing her shock and horror at realizing that Darth Vader was her father, and that Darth Vader was now living with them, on the rebel base. She would have to decide to what extent they could justify pouring resources into his medical care. He should probably be tried for his crimes, and not be given a free pass simply because his children were rebel leaders.

Leia clenched her fist. How could she forget Alderaan? That monster now in the medical center was responsible for that. Technically Tarkin was, but Vader had certainly not stopped him. And what of all his other crimes? She had seen him cut down Obi-Wan Kenobi. She had not known the old Jedi master in person for long, but she had grown up hearing stories. Her father had been friends with the man, after all. Besides, Master Kenobi had been an important figure in Luke’s life and training.

“Come on, Leia, it’s time to dance.” Han entwined his arm in hers and led her into the cleared space where the rebels, Ewoks, even the droids were dancing. She cast one last look at Luke and shifted her attention to Han.

Luke stood off to the side, smiling at the revelers. “Luke. Good job, Luke.” He heard a familiar voice calling his name. He turned around to face the transparent blue forms of three ghosts, all dressed in Jedi robes. Luke smiled at Old Ben and Master Yoda, then nodded at the third, unfamiliar figure.

“I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Qui-Gon Jinn.” The tall human man with long hair and sad eyes introduced himself. “I was responsible for bringing Anakin into the Jedi Order and starting the chain of events that ended here. Anakin made his own decisions, of course, but I was always watching. You have enabled him to fulfill his true destiny as the Chosen One.”

Luke nodded again. “He’s my father. I love him.”

Master Yoda began to make a harrumphing noise, but was met with a glare from Old Ben. “We completely misunderstood the teachings on attachment. I need to apologize to you, Luke. I told you to kill your father, when you were listening to the Force much better than either of us. We acted out of fear. And I didn’t tell you the whole truth, again out of fear. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t blame you, Ben.”

“There are still a handful of Jedi who survived, although each one is isolated. To complete your training, and to help you train your sister, you should seek them. Your father can help. May the Force be with you.” Qui-Gon smiled as the three ghosts faded away.

* * *

Leia slipped into the medical center late at night. She needed to see Vader for herself. Luke was a naïve farm boy. If he was being deceived, she would need to know so that she could protect her brother. Years in the Senate and as a spy and rebel princess had made Leia much less trusting.

Here he was. Even without the iconic black helmet and with all kinds of tubes and external gadgets attached to his compromised life-support suit, she had no trouble identifying the monster. She felt herself being drawn to his bedside. Seeing him prone, defenseless, helmetless would be cathartic for her.

She strode up to his bed and peered at his face, which she had never seen before. He barely looked human to her, with his pale skin, scarred bald head, scrofulated purple eyelids, and oxygen mask. He seemed oddly small without his helmet. If she disconnected his oxygen mask, if she shut off the rest of his life support, he would die. She could exact revenge for Alderaan, Tarkintown on Lothal, Obi-Wan Kenobi, for all the things he had done. It would be easy, not to mention cheaper than providing medical care, keeping him in custody, putting him on trial for his crimes, and then executing him anyway.

Leia noticed the lightsaber still clipped to the monster’s belt. She padded softly around the bed to the other side and gently unhooked the lightsaber. It felt right in her hands, as if it had been hers all along. She ignited the blade and basked in its crimson light. It would be so easy to drive it into Vader right now, to cut his head off, to slash through his skull vertically. The blade was singing, or was it screaming, in her hands when she felt another presence enter the medical center.

“Leia? What are you doing?” Luke drew his own green blade and rapidly closed the distance between the entrance and his father’s bed. The Force was swirling around his sister, angry, power-mad, bloodthirsty, mocking, red, Dark.

Leia seemed to snap out of her trance. Her sneer dropped and she turned off the lightsaber in a swift motion. She looked up at Luke, eyes wide in horror. “What am I doing?”

“You don’t know? You were about to stab Father.”

“HE IS NOT MY FATHER!” A voice not her own was screaming inside her head. Leia dropped the lightsaber, which clattered to the floor and rolled away.

“You’re right, he needs to be properly tried for his crimes. I—I don’t know what to make of this situation, Luke. I never thought I would see him like this. He tortured me before. I didn’t know he was my father, and I hope he didn’t realize that either at the time, but there was something about him, something strangely compelling. I grew up with a good father, Luke, Bail Organa. I still think of him as my real father. Vader is responsible for his death, along with all of Alderaan. I won’t be able to forgive that so easily.”

“I understand. I don’t expect you to, certainly not right away. But anger is bad for your soul, Leia. It’s corrosive. Fear, anger, and hate are what made Father turn into a monster. One evil wizard in the family is quite enough.”

Leia let out a short, bitter laugh. “You think I’m in danger of becoming like him? I didn’t grow up with him. He had no influence on my upbringing.”

“Leia, you need training. You’re Force-sensitive, too. You have a lot to be angry about, and the Dark Side is particularly tempting for untrained Force-sensitives. Father can help. He can help us find other Jedi survivors so that we can rebuild a new Jedi Order and continue to get better at using the Force.”

Leia put a hand on her forehead. “Let me think about this for a while. If you want to go find other Jedi teachers to join your new Order, I won’t stop you. You’re a knight, the Jedi are your people. But I’m a politician and military leader. The Rebellion needs me, especially in the next phase, as we transition into being a civilian government.”

“Fair enough. Think about it carefully, let the Force guide you. But first, I think you should go to bed. We’ve all had a long day.” Luke moved from his position across the bed from Leia and hugged his sister.

“You too, Luke. Don’t stay up too late.” Leia smiled at her brother and left the medical center.

Alone with his father, Luke took one of the man’s hands and closed his eyes, trying to reach his father’s mind through the Force for another healing session.

_"Luke. That was your sister, was it not?”_

Luke startled. That voice was in his head. He opened his eyes and stared at the seemingly unconscious form in front of him.

_“You have succeeded in forming a Force bond with me. I had one with my Jedi master, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and another with my padawan. Now I have one with you. You have usurped the remains of the bond I had with my Sith master. Now that he’s gone, everything feels different. I feel light-headed, woozy, like a bad hangover.”_

Luke smiled. “Obi-Wan Kenobi was my master, too, until you killed him. Then I had Master Yoda, and now I have three ghosts guiding me. Welcome aboard, Father.”

Luke’s father pondered this for a moment. The death of the Emperor certainly hurt, but it was a good kind of hurt, like coming off of powerful drugs. Force, what had Anakin spent the past twenty-two years doing? The horror of it all began to sink in as the mangled remains of Darth Vader began to reintegrate themselves into a replica of Anakin Skywalker.

* * *

In the morning Han came into Leia’s makeshift office, ostensibly on business. “Yeah, one more thing. I’ve been thinking about your family tree. Darth Vader is your father, too, isn’t he? That’s pretty messed up.”

“I know. I’m not dealing with it very well. Luke seems to be totally smitten, which is weird and worrisome, but that monster is a murderous madman. I don’t really feel comfortable having him in our base. I wanted to pull the plug on him, but Luke won’t hear of it. I just hope Luke doesn’t get hurt.”

“I don’t exactly have pleasant memories of him, myself. On the other hand, I wasn’t very lucky in the parent department, either. Luke had an aunt and uncle who were at least decent.”

Leia nodded. “I think we need to try Vader for his crimes. If we let him get off scot free, we won’t have any moral legitimacy. The galaxy needs closure.”

“I agree. Well, see you around, your Worshipfulness. Don’t forget to eat lunch.”

“Thanks.” Leia smiled at the retreating form. “Oh, and Han? For the record, you’re still a scruffy-looking nerf-herder.”

He groaned and turned around. “Yeah. And now you’ve made me act half-witted, too. Pine for me in my absence.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anakin needs to earn his keep, as Leia makes abundantly clear. She is 100% the daughter he always wanted.

Luke returned to his father’s bedside in the morning for another round of Force-healing. This was a bit of a misnomer, since what Luke was really doing was more maintaining his father’s condition so that it would not get worse. He was filling the gap between the care his father needed and the care they could give.

“Good morning, Father.” Luke smiled.

_“Hello, Luke. How is your sister?”_

“Still mad at you. You did torture her and blow up her homeworld.”

_“Yes, I know. She has every right to be angry. But we need to be careful with that. Look what anger did to me.”_

“About that. I think Leia needs training. I heard from my ghosts that you can help me find other surviving Jedi. Do you have a list or something from the years that you hunted them?”

_“I did. But it’s not up-to-date. There is another way, though. I told you about my Force-bonds yesterday. Obi-Wan is dead now, although it sounds like you’re still in communication with his ghost. My other bond, aside from the one with you, was with my padawan. I never felt her die. I think she’s still out there, somewhere. If we can find her, she is our best bet. Ahsoka Tano. Leia probably knew her, if she was a rebel.”_

“Thank you, Father. Do you know where she is?”

_“The last time I saw her, we fought on Malachor. I left her for dead there.”_

“Malachor. That’s a long way from here.”

_“It’s also the site of an ancient Sith temple. If you go there looking for her, be careful.”_

* * *

“Chancellor? May I speak with you a minute?” Leia stepped into Mon Mothma’s office. The new chancellor smiled warmly at the young princess.

“Yes, of course. Come in, dear.”

Leia slipped into the tent, closed the entrance flap behind her, and took a seat on one of those uncomfortable cheap folding chairs. “I’m sorry to bother you when there is so much work to do.”

“Not at all, dear. What’s on your mind? I know it’s important.”

“It’s Darth Vader. Luke brought him back with him, and now he’s in the field hospital. I think he needs to be tried for his crimes, although Luke says he’s defected to our side now. I’m not entirely unbiased in this matter, because Darth Vader is my father. Luke’s father, too. I fear our family ties will cloud my judgement.”

Mon Mothma looked up from her tea in surprise. “I knew your mother, Leia. Your birth mother. Padme Naberrie, who was professionally Senator Amidala of Naboo. I didn’t know for sure who your father was, but I always suspected it was the Jedi knight Anakin Skywalker. He was supposed to be dead. I suppose he _was_ dead, in the sense that he was Darth Vader.”

Leia stared. “You knew the man he used to be. Luke claims that Vader is back to being the good man he was before, but Luke is also innocent and trusting. I don’t trust Vader and his supposed change of heart.”

“Many in the new Republic will share your opinion. If and when he shares intelligence, it will need to be cross-checked. We may be able to commute his sentence in exchange for cooperation, if we do try him and he is found guilty of war crimes.”

“And Luke wants to go off searching for other surviving Jedi. Can we really spare him, though?”

“Yes, I believe we can. It will be a while before Darth Vader is in good enough condition to stand trial.” Mon Mothma took another sip of tea.

“That’s another thing. We don’t have the resources to squander on medical care for criminals.” Leia was fiddling with her blaster handle now.

“Leia, you don’t remember the old Republic or the Jedi, but your mother would have wanted to believe in the good in him, would have wanted to give him a chance.”

“But she’s dead, has been dead for all of my life, so I can see that it didn’t work very well for her. And didn’t Vader kill her?”

“Perhaps. But don’t forget the values we’ve been fighting for, Leia.” Mon Mothma sighed. It was times like this that she really missed her old friends in the Senate. Padme, Riyo Chuchi, Bail Organa, Onaconda Farr, and even Duchess Satine Kryze of Mandalore, who was not officially part of the Republic Senate but still shared its better values and nobler instincts.

Leia bowed her head, acknowledging the point. “You’re right. We must not stoop to the level of the Empire. Thank you.”

Leia found Luke still in the field hospital, still holding his father’s hand. The supine figure did not look dangerous, but Leia still did not trust him. The Emperor himself had not looked physically dangerous, either.

“Luke?”

“Oh, hello there. Father has told me where he keeps all his classified information. He says the datachip was in the hilt of his lightsaber. The one you dropped yesterday. Where did it roll to?”

Leia frowned. “Now you tell me? I don’t want to handle that lightsaber again. It made me feel murderous and strange.”

“All right, I’ll look for it. Oh, and Father says any standard astromech droid can read the data. You can review it in the war room with the commanders.”

Luke let go of his father’s hand and dropped to his knees, searching for the lightsaber. He could not see it. Where did it go? It was not under the bed. He closed his eyes and tried to connect with the crystal inside the lightsaber.

 _“What are you doing, Luke?”_ He heard his father say over their bond.

“Leia dropped your lightsaber and I’m trying to feel for it in the Force.”

_“Ah. I can help.”_

Luke felt his father inside his mind, tuning into the crystal inside the lightsaber, calling to them. Sure enough, the crystal started to feel closer, louder. Luke held out his hand, his eyes still closed, and summoned the lightsaber to him. To his surprise, he soon felt a comfortable weight resting in his lightly-cupped palm.

“We found it, Leia.” Luke rose to his feet, smiling at his sister, the lightsaber held up triumphantly above his head.

“We?” Leia asked, one brow raised. She did not like the sound of that.

“Father and I have formed a Force-bond. I can talk to him inside our heads. He’s lucid, even though he can’t really talk out loud. I can communicate.”

Luke felt the hilt of the lightsaber for signs of the datachip. Aha. He pushed a second, smaller button below the ignition. The bottom of the hilt sprang open, revealing a secret compartment. There was the datachip. Luke handed it to his sister.

“Thanks, I’ll take this to the war room and find Artoo to read it.”

Alone again with his father, Luke tuned back into his mental bond. “Thanks, Father. This will help us end the fighting sooner.”

Anakin Skywalker smiled. His mouth was not visible, but his eyes were smiling. They were a little less red today. Luke realized that his father never slept or ate. No wonder he looked like that.

_“Leia. That was the name I picked out first when I found out your mother was pregnant. I knew we were going to have a daughter. And she looks just like her mother. I didn’t feel you in the Force, though, during your mother’s pregnancy. I thought my daughter died when her mother did.”_

“Leia is more charismatic, more intense than I am, so I’m not surprised she overshadowed me. She’s talking about trying you for your crimes, too.”

The invalid closed his eyes, unable to sigh. _“Yes, that is only right. I can present a list of the crimes I remember committing. You’ll probably hate me when you find out all the terrible things I’ve done. I deserve to be hated.”_

“Hey. Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to suffering, remember?” Luke was smirking, his lopsided grin very similar to the one his father used to sport back in the old days.

_“You spent more than enough time with Master Yoda, I see. Speaking of which, I think Ahsoka is still on Malachor.”_

The thought of that place gave Anakin the creeps now. As the steady stream of anger and hatred and fear that had been bombarded at him through his Sith training bond disappeared, replaced with waves of love and comfort from Luke, the Dark Side and its artefacts and temples suddenly felt cold and dangerous again, the way they had when Anakin was still a Jedi. The closest parallel to this experience, if Anakin were to describe it to a non-Force-sensitive, would be a particularly bad hangover or even withdrawal from an addictive substance.

* * *

In the war room, Mon Mothma, Han, Wedge Antilles, Admiral Ackbar, Chewbacca, and the rest of the Rebel Alliance leadership were watching with baited breath as Leia inserted the datachip into the reader slot on Artoo, and the data was projected for all to see. There were blueprints, battle plans, maps, deployment details for all Imperial troops and droids, lists of suspected traitors, Inquisitor report files, and all sorts of other sensitive information.

“Wow.” Han was the first to speak. “If all this is genuine—wow, just wow.”

Chewbacca roared his agreement with that assessment. “Qwhhh!”

“Yeah, I think you’re right. All these enemy positions could quickly change, especially now that the top leadership of the Imps is out of the picture.”

“Where did you get this information, Princess?” Admiral Ackbar asked.

“Our new POW, Darth Vader. He has expressed a willingness to cooperate, to give us intelligence. We will need to verify his leads, but he has shown no sign of resistance or hostility so far.”

“Can he speak? Can he make a public announcement, order the remaining Imps to surrender or something?” Wedge focused on the practical.

“Good point. As far as I can tell he is mostly nonverbal, which is not surprising given his oxygen mask, but he has been communicating telepathically with Luke. I know, I know, it’s some kind of Jedi thing.” Leia had noticed Han’s incredulous expression.

“What are we going to do with him?” Wedge frowned. “We’ve never had a prisoner who was this high-profile before.”

“We give him a fair chance. He wants to help us, and has apparently told Luke he’s willing to provide a list of his crimes for our consideration, even stand trial. If he is found to be trustworthy, we might pardon him for some of the crimes in exchange for his help.” Mon Mothma stood, pensive, gazing at the intel. “I remember the man he used to be, before the Empire. He was a good man originally.”

“But he has twenty years of being evil.” Admiral Ackbar pointed out. “Don’t you think he should at least be supervised?”

“Yes, you’re right about the need for supervision. We have Luke and Leia, and of course all of us. We need to make sure not to leave him alone, especially if he recovers enough to wander around. We should take turns, vary his minders, so that no one individual spends enough time with him to get corrupted, if that is his strategy.” Mon Mothma was thinking aloud, but her stately manner and measured tones made her remarks sound like a formal decision. Many of the rebels were nodding.

“Another item on our agenda is Luke’s request that he be allowed to go to Malachor to search for the former Jedi, Ahsoka Tano.” Leia spoke up. A murmur went through the room as veterans of the rebellion remembered one of the original Fulcrums fondly.

“She’s alive? She’s a legend. I’d love to meet her.” One of the younger rebels mused.

Leia was almost dismayed when it was agreed, almost unanimously, to send Luke to Malachor. Worse, a sizable minority wanted Leia to go as well. Han’s expression had clouded when that proposal was made.

In the hallway afterwards, Han cornered Leia. “I don’t want them to send you to Malachor. By all accounts it’s a dangerous place.”

“I don’t answer to you, Han. You don’t get to tell me where to go or what to do. If you remember, I rescued myself on the Death Star. I can manage. Luke should probably have me with him.” Han’s expression of concern came across just controlling enough to hook her rebellious streak. She was going, then.

After Leia stormed off, Chewie emerged from the shadows. “Yeah, you were right about how to get her to go. Lando owes me some credits now, since he bet that I couldn’t talk Leia into going. The Chancellor will be pleased, since it was originally her idea.” Han placed a hand on Chewie’s shoulder and smirked.

Leia found Luke in the field hospital. “Luke? I’m going with you to Malachor. We’re verifying the intel from the datachip now.”

Anakin Skywalker smiled. Malachor was not a nice place to arrive alone, especially if one was as trusting as Luke. He remembered another boy who had been too naïve on Malachor. His errors in judgement had led to his Jedi master being blinded. Better for Luke to have his sister with him. On the other hand, Leia had a great deal of Dark capability in her. Sending her alone to Malachor would be a disaster. The two needed each other for balance, like Kenobi and Skywalker back in the Clone Wars.

_“Luke, I also have a holocron. It’s voice-activated, so it will only respond to my voice. Not my real voice, but my voice distorted through the vocoder. If you wear my helmet, you may be able to activate it. If it works, tell it to execute Order 199. That’s the unconditional surrender of all Imperial troops loyal to me. I added it to the protocols for when I inevitably challenged my Sith master and struggled to overthrow him. The restored Republic can benefit.”_

Luke’s eyes went wide. “You can end the war with just one spoken command?” Leia gasped to hear her brother’s question.

_“Yes. Maybe. Do you still have the helmet?”_

Luke nodded. “Yes, we do still have your helmet and the vocoder. Do you really think I’ll sound enough like you?”

“Hey, what’s going on? I can only hear one side of this conversation, you know.” Leia crossed her arms.

Luke and his father exchanged glances. “I doubt you want to create a Force-bond with Father. If you create one with me, you’ll have some access to Father as well. How does that sound?”

Leia eyed father and son suspiciously. “Oh, all right. It’ll be easier to keep tabs on both of you that way.”

Luke smiled. “Here goes, then.” He closed his eyes and sharpened his focus, honing in on his sister’s Force-presence. _“Leia.”_ He found her. _“Open up your mind.”_

Leia closed her eyes and took a breath. All of her life she had been so guarded, so private in her own mind, without even realizing that she was shielding herself in the Force. It took some effort to open that up.

 _“Luke. I can hear you.”_ This was weird. Leia had never spoken to anyone mind-to-mind before. She opened her eyes in bewilderment.

Anakin Skywalker was smiling. _“Now, the holocron.”_

 _“Where is it, Father?”_ Luke broadcasted the thought across two bonds at once. He had had no idea that he could do that. This was wizard.

 _“It’s embedded in a secret compartment inside the hollow of one of my cybernetic legs. Yes, I know. I don’t need pockets and luggage to carry things, when I have plenty of storage inside my suit.”_ The part of Darth Vader that was still Anakin Skywalker had seen to that. If he was to be more droid than man, at the very least he had wanted to modify his parts to add cool features and increase convenience.

Luke gently lifted the blanket he had placed over his father’s trunk and felt along the artificial legs. Aha, here was the tab for opening the secret compartment. Luke pressed the tab and the lid swung open. Inside the leg was a pyramid-shaped holocron that glowed red. It felt angry and hot in the Force, especially with Luke handling it. “I don’t think it likes me,” Luke observed.

Leia was staring at the object. “Can I see?”

Luke handed the Sith artefact to his sister. She turned it over in her hands. It felt neutral to her, like it approved of her. What did that mean?

 _“Hmm. Maybe Leia should be holding it when you impersonate me to voice-activate it. Or, you could activate it here, with the rebel leadership watching.”_ Anakin Skywalker tried to push down his unease about his daughter’s clear affinity with the Dark Side. She was not actively or consciously Dark, but she was definitely at risk. He could see the fire in her nature, which would make her a charismatic leader, a brilliantly bold and compassionate general, but also a sadistic and evil Sith lord if she Fell. Leia was so much like her father in temperament.

Leia put the holocron down, onto the bedside table. “I’ll go consult the Chancellor. She should be present when we activate the holocron.”

Anakin Skywalker suppressed a wince when his daughter mentioned the Chancellor. Of course, she was talking about the woman whom Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker had known as Senator Mothma, and not Sheev Palpatine, but the word still felt raw. All told, he had wasted more than thirty years listening to that monster, from the time he was nine until now. He was only forty-four now, but his body was so much older. The blanket Luke had pulled over him was not really necessary, certainly not over the shoddy cybernetics that had been inside that suit, but it was the thought that counted. It had been a long time since anyone had treated him as a human person instead of a terrifying monster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feel free to comment! I am the sort of author who writes back. Thank you for reading and may the Force be with you!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHSOKA!

When Leia returned, she had not just Chancellor Mothma but several of the most important rebel leaders with her. Leia picked up the holocron, while Luke held the vocoder up to his mouth. Anakin Skywalker concentrated on the holocron, although it was not easy to concentrate on much of anything in his current condition. The top of the pyramid floated up, detached, and then the corners. He gave the signal to Luke to intone the command.

“Execute Order 199,” Luke drawled through the vocoder, doing his best impression of his father’s distorted rasp. He held his breath for a moment, afraid the holocron knew that he was an imposter.

And then it happened. A figure appeared of one of the Inquisitors, the one that Darth Vader had thought the most promising to train as his Sith apprentice before he had known about Luke. That was only a couple of years ago, but it felt like it had been centuries. Life could change beyond all recognition in just a short time.

“It shall be done, my lord.” The recorded figure bowed, then disappeared. This would kickstart the systems that would disseminate the order.

“What about publishing images of Lord Vader as he is now?” One of the rebels piped up. Concern flitted across Luke’s face. Making an example of him or showing him off like a Kowakian monkey-lizard was not in line with their values, surely.

 _“The galaxy should know that I have defected.”_ Anakin Skywalker told Luke over their bond, gazing at him expectantly.

“He says the galaxy needs to know about his defection.” Luke gulped. He had never imagined becoming his father’s mouthpiece.

Wedge entered the field hospital. “We just got some reports in that the intel we received on the datachip checks out. It’s genuine.”

A murmur went through the assembled rebels. A sizable minority had believed that any information provided by Darth Vader was not to be trusted.

_“Luke? Take dictation on my official statement. The Rebellion should be able to release it, along with images of me without my helmet. I know I’m not pleasant to look at, but the people need to see that I am no longer Darth Vader.”_

Luke nodded and began writing something while the rebel leaders watched, not entirely certain what was happening. Leia pulled out her datapad to capture an image of the former Sith lord, propping him up against the headboard of his bed, posing him with his helmet on his lap. When Luke finished taking down his father’s public statement, he handed his datapad to the Chancellor.

Mon Mothma read through the statement carefully, considering every word and the impact it would have on the galaxy. She blinked away tears as she handed it back to Luke, then smiled at the invalid. “Welcome back, Knight Anakin Skywalker. We missed you. I approve the release of this statement.”

If Luke and Leia were to go to Malachor, the rebels would need to put some more effort into Vader’s medical care, since they would not be able to rely on Luke’s Force-healing. Now that Vader was a valuable source of intelligence and had expressed willingness to stand trial, they could not simply let him die.

* * *

It was a long way to Malachor from Endor, especially with just two people. Luke sat in the cockpit most of the time, even though they were in hyperspace for most of the way. He kept his eyes open, watching the white light streaming by, as he tried to meditate in the way that Old Ben had taught him. No, do or do not, there is no try. He had to smile at the thought of the tiny green troll who had turned out to be one of the greatest and wisest Jedi ever to live. At least, that was his reputation.

Luke gently probed along his bond with his father, intending to check in with him to make sure he was all right. If something felt wrong, he could use the ship’s communication systems to alert Wedge or Han.

Oh no. Disquiet and concern was leaking across the bond. _“Father, what’s wrong?”_

_“I know I pushed the Emperor down that reactor shaft. He ought to be dead. But I can feel him again, albeit faintly. Not quite him, but an imperfect copy. Oh. A clone. He had himself cloned. I should have known. There are still plenty of Imperial sympathizers; the war is not yet over. One of them may have initiated the process.”_

_“A clone. We couldn’t have known. If they’ve just started growing him, maybe it’s not too late.”_

_“Luke, I fought with clones in the Clone Wars. Each clone is an individual person. If this clone is removed from the conditioning and special upbringing, then he might turn out to be a decent person, unless there is some kind of chip in his head.”_

Images of Order 66 flashed through Anakin Skywalker’s mind. The younglings looking up to him with hope in their eyes, the horror on their little faces when he drew his lightsaber and cut them down like summer grass on Naboo. He shuddered at the memory of his own actions and how it felt when thousands of Jedi Force signatures were extinguished. Never again.

_“I’m also concerned about Leia. Don’t leave her alone on Malachor. You should be all right, but I worry about her. Her Force signature is naturally Darker than yours. She needs guidance and training.”_

_“Yes, Father.”_

At that moment Leia came into the cockpit, stretching from having napped on an uncomfortable bunk. “You’re talking to him, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I was talking to Father. He says to be careful on Malachor, and that he thinks the Emperor has been cloned.”

Leia rested both hands on the back of her brother’s chair. After more than twenty years of Darth Vader trying to snuff her and the people dear to her out, now he was showing fatherly concern. How dare he. On the other hand, he did need to make it up to her and Luke somehow.

“How does he know about the clone?”

“He can feel his Force-bond with his master reviving slightly. He was going to supplant it with a bond with me, but now he can feel a distorted, still-weak version of the Emperor. This is serious.”

“If it’s true. We should definitely prepare for this possibility. My father—I guess that’s Senator Organa to you—told me about the Clone Wars. I asked why they didn’t clone a Jedi, maybe Obi-Wan Kenobi, and he said it doesn’t go very well when they try to clone Force-sensitives.”

“So we might be dealing with a defective copy of an evil Sith lord. Wow.” Luke fingered his lightsaber. The galaxy was still a dangerous place.

* * *

When they finally landed on Malachor, Luke looked around him and shuddered. It was impossible to tell what time of day it was in the darkness. The dark was not a clean, inky dark, but hazy and miasmic. He could barely make out the tall structure in front of him, all sharp triangles and broken pillars.

He tuned into the Force, looking for the Force signature of a living being. The Dark Side energies of this place were making him sick to his stomach, but a glance at Leia walking next to him showed that she was not affected.

“Can you feel anybody, Leia?”

His sister closed her eyes and concentrated. “I knew of the original Fulcrum, but I didn’t know she was Ahsoka Tano or that she had been Vader’s Jedi padawan. I’m not sure I’ll recognize her Force signature. I didn’t even know I was Force-sensitive at all until recently, remember?”

“Well, let’s get on with it, because this place gives me the creeps and it’s even affecting me physically.”

They continued walking into the interior of the structure, although now Leia was in the lead. The gate swung open for her and she strode confidently down the central nave of the temple, barely looking at the statues flanking the walkway. Her eyes were focused on a broken tower straight ahead.

They drew nearer and nearer to the tower, until they came to a stop in the open space in front of it. Luke saw old-looking lightsabers with a different hilt design from all of the lightsabers he had ever seen before. He closed his eyes and frowned. There was great pain, anger, and fear lingering in this place. Many battles had been fought here. One of those battles, of course, had been between his father and his former padawan, the very woman he sought.

“What are you doing here, Skyguy? Have you come back here from the past to change things again?” A hooded figure emerged from the shadows. The top of the hood dipped in the middle and she sounded like a sad woman who had experienced much heartbreak and suffering. “Or has this temple conjured you as my final torment?”

Luke bowed. “You must be Ahsoka Tano. I’m Luke Skywalker, and this is my sister Leia. Nice to meet you.” He could not see her face very well, but he could make out white markings cocked in disbelief. She could probably see his smile.

“Luke Skywalker? Anakin? Padme?” She was trying to make sense of her visitors.

“Anakin Skywalker is our father. He said we would find you here. I need your help to rebuild the Jedi Order. Father is helping, too, but he’s bedridden.”

“And how do I know this is not another Sith scheme to hunt down remaining rogue Jedi? I’m not part of the Rebellion.”

Leia perked up. “But you were. I grew up admiring you, Fulcrum. Now that we’ve almost won, please come back.”

Ahsoka came closer to get a better look at the two young people. She examined them through the Force, then noticed that Luke had a lightsaber. “What color is your lightsaber blade?”

Luke unclipped it and ignited the green blade. “Mine is green. I lost Father’s old blue one. I taught myself how to build a new one based on the manuals Old Ben—Obi-Wan Kenobi—left in his hut on Tatooine.” The way Luke said this did not come across as bragging, but as genuine wonder at the opportunities he had been given.

Ahoska let down her hood. Her face was gaunt and looked even thinner thanks to the markings on her cheeks. She extended a hand to Luke. He offered his flesh hand without hesitation, then added his cybernetic hand for good measure.

“You are indeed Anakin’s son. I can feel the Light in you. You’re bright. You’re as powerful as your father but without any of the shadows in him, so that you feel like a more intense version of Master Obi-Wan. I trust you. And you said this was your sister. She does look like Padme. May I?”

Leia added her hands to the mix. She saw Fulcrum frown for a moment, then regain her composure. “You inherited your father’s shadows. That’s good. The two of you together bring balance. Do you have a lightsaber?”

“No. I don’t trust myself with one. I picked up Vader’s lightsaber and it made me homicidal.” Leia shuddered at the memory.

“His red Sith lightsaber. Dark Side objects respond to you. Ezra was also able to open both Jedi and Sith holocrons. It’s a dangerous path, but these are dangerous times. I trust you. Come on, I know a way out of this temple if you have a ship.”

Luke was happy to follow Ahsoka out, but Leia found herself looking around at her surroundings as she followed behind, almost wishing she could stay and explore. The cracked stones strewn over the floor were a hazard and it was not easy getting around the debris blocking the exit through the lower levels, but there was a strange kind of beauty to the ruined temple.

Luke helped Ahsoka into their ship and they were in hyperspace soon enough. Leia sat pensively, not sure what to make of Fulcrum, _that_ Fulcrum, here in the flesh. It was hard enough to wrap her head around the idea that this woman had been connected to Vader in any way, shape, or form, or that Vader had had another life as a Jedi before the Empire, that he had not always been a monster.

“I didn’t know Anakin had twins. He didn’t know about you either.” Ahsoka spoke. “He unleashed more Skywalkers on the galaxy. Are there just the two of you?”

“So far.” Luke was smirking. Leia elbowed him in the ribs. She and Han Solo were not exactly decorating nurseries or knitting baby clothes just yet. The war for freedom was not even completely over.

“Being subtle with secret lovers is not something Skywalkers are capable of,” Ahsoka noted, matter-of-factly. “Everyone except Anakin and Padme themselves knew they weren’t really hidden.”

“Padme? Senator Amidala?” Leia clarified. “You knew her?”

“Of course. We fought together during the Clone Wars. She was a great shot with a blaster. You mean you didn’t know your mother could fight? Her main weapon was always words, of course, but she made a great mission partner, too.” Ahsoka was smiling in fond remembrance now.

“Leia is a good shot, too.” Luke smiled at his sister.

“I had to rescue myself from the Death Star, along with Luke and Han. The droids and Chewbacca were better at taking care of themselves.”

“Is Chewbacca still alive? I owe him my life, and he owes me his. The Clone Wars.”

The rest of the journey would be pleasant if they could get Ahsoka to tell them stories. It was such a long way that any kind of companionship was welcome.

* * *

As soon as they landed on Endor, a large crowd of rebels came out to meet them. Ahsoka recognized many faces among the leadership. There was Senator Mothma, even Wedge. So he had survived. She smiled at everyone, even the younger rebels she had never seen before.

Luke ushered her into the field hospital, to his father’s bedside. Ahsoka gasped to see her old master in his current state. She had assumed that he wore the Vader suit so as not to be recognized, since the Hero With No Fear had been famous across the galaxy, but this man looked almost nothing like the Skyguy she had known. Almost. She looked into the blue eyes and a single tear trickled down her face. His eyes were blue again. The last time she had seen one of his eyes during their fight on Malachor, it had been gleaming Sith yellow.

“Skyguy.” She picked up one of his cybernetic hands.

 _“Snips. You came back to me.”_ Despite all the years of disuse and careful shielding on both sides, Anakin Skywalker found that he could still reach Ahsoka through their old training bond.

“I wasn’t leaving you, Master. You’re the one who left us. I can see you’re back.” Ahsoka hardly registered the complicated cocktail of emotion leaking from Leia standing behind her. It was true, then.

_“Did you see the statement we released? I can’t talk out loud because of the oxygen mask and my ruined respiratory system, but I dictated to Luke over our mental bond. The war isn’t over. The Emperor is dead, but he still has many sympathizers and I think he’s growing a clone of himself. We need you. Can you ever forgive me, Snips? My daughter can’t.”_

“I didn’t know you had defected until Luke and Leia came to get me.” Ahsoka decided to dodge his main question for now. She would need to meditate. This man in front of her was recognizably the man she had known and loved as an older brother, one of the kindest, most fair-minded knights in the galaxy, but there would have to be some kind of reckoning for his years as Vader, not for her sake, but for the galaxy.

“Father, you said you were going to give us a list of your crimes.” Luke spoke up. Something told him the people assembled would benefit from hearing that his father admitted to his mistakes and was willing to take the consequences for them. That was the kind of maturity one expected from a Jedi, rather than a Hutt or bounty hunter or other kind of sleemo.

Wedge handed Ahsoka his datapad for her to see the former Darth Vader’s official statement, which had now been broadcast across the galaxy. Tears glimmered in her big cobalt blue eyes as she read, and then her breath hitched in her throat when she saw the image of Anakin Skywalker propped up in his hospital bed, his black Darth Vader helmet resting on his lap.

This was not the Skyguy she remembered, but not Darth Vader, either. This was someone old before his time, worn down by the crushing weight of crimes committed for an Emperor he hated, for a cause that was never his own, all because of a lie about the fate of his children. This was also a survivor, a Jedi who was willing to face whatever kind of justice could be meted out. Ahsoka realized that there was really no body in the galaxy qualified to try him, except perhaps for an internal trial within the remains of the Jedi Order.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feel free to comment! I am the sort of author who writes back. Thank you for reading and may the Force be with you!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan has altogether too much fun as a Force-ghost. On the other hand, the man deserves a little amusement after a life of infinite sadness.

Meanwhile, Luke was taking dictation on his datapad again. _“I beheaded Count Dooku, who was the Sith apprentice before me, when he was an unarmed prisoner, instead of taking him into custody to stand trial. I didn’t stop Grand Moff Tarkin from blowing up all of Alderaan. That’s genocide. After my mother was kidnapped and killed, I slaughtered an entire village of Tuskin Raiders, men, women, and children, while I was still a Jedi padawan. I knew it was not the Jedi way but I gave into my anger and hatred to exact revenge.”_

“Grandma Shmi? Uncle Owen told me stories about her. He loved her very much. He told me to be proud of my Skywalker family lineage because of Grandma Shmi.”

_“Owen Lars raised you? It sounds like he did a good job. Yes, your Grandma Shmi. I still miss her. I don’t sleep much but when I do I see her in my dreams, telling me how disappointed she is in me.”_

Luke looked down at his lap, then squeezed his father’s other hand, cybernetic to cybernetic. “It’s not too late. You can still make her proud.”

_“Let’s see. I assaulted Senator Clovis with intent to kill or at least maim because I didn’t like the way he was too flirty with your mother. He didn’t know I was her husband, but he was quite a sleemo about it. That doesn’t excuse my response. I fought Snips and left her for dead on Malachor—actually the only reason she didn’t die was because of some Force trick pulled by a young Jedi padawan. I slaughtered innocent civilians on more planets than I can count, but I remember Ryloth and Lothal best. I tortured your sister and your friend. And I maimed you.”_

Luke looked at his growing list with dismay. It would be hard to pardon all of this. Even if he could claim that his father had not been in his right mind, this was serious. He sighed. “There’s more, isn’t there?”

_“Brutal revenge killing of the scientist who deliberately designed my life-support suit to be excruciating and to allow my master to control me. I slaughtered Jedi, destroyed the Temple, and killed the younglings. I knew those kids from creche duty and many of the knights and masters I personally killed had been my friends. It’s my fault your mother died. I Force-choked her when she was almost ready to give birth and she died of despair at the monster I had become.”_

“Is that what happened? Old Ben refused to tell me details of my mother’s death. He implied that the Emperor stole her life Force.”

_“He was there when it happened. My silly old master, still trying to protect me to you even after everything I did, including to him. And you saw me kill him.”_

“I did, but his ghost assures me he still loves you, well, at least the Anakin Skywalker in you, not the Vader. Well, thanks for making this list. I don’t know if we’ll be able to manage a proper trial, but we do need to show the galaxy we care about justice and accountability. A lot of people will want revenge, but we won’t do anything petty. I love you, Father.”

Ahsoka finished reading the statement and handed the datapad back to Wedge. “Thank you, Wedge, old buddy. Well, Skyguy, it looks like we’re back to old times. Crazy odds, daily calamities, nebulous enemies who might as well be droids given their intolerance and cruelty, Snips and Skyguy in the thick of things.” She gave his hand another squeeze.

Luke noticed the Chancellor standing with a hand on his sister’s shoulder. “Chancellor Mothma, here is the list of my father’s crimes that he could remember off the top of his head. He’s sure there’s a lot more than this. There’s quite a variety.”

“Thank you, Luke. Don’t worry, we’ll treat him fairly. He’s not well enough to stand trial and we don’t have the resources to do much. We aren’t going to sink to the level of the Empire.”

Ahsoka looked up. “Oh. I should have known. Medical supplies are scarce so I can understand why you couldn’t do more for Skyguy. But Luke, you told me your father is alive because of your Force-healing.”

“Old Ben and Master Yoda taught me after they became ghosts.” Luke scratched his head. Where was she going with this? Was she going to teach him more advanced techniques? If so, that would really help all of the injured rebels.

“Good, you know what you’re doing. We can work together. We won’t be able to actually heal him without access to better medical care, but we can keep him stable, get him strong enough for any procedures he might eventually have. And Leia. Have you ever had lessons in Force-healing?”

Leia frowned. She had never heard of Force-healing before she saw Luke doing it on Vader or formerly-Vader or Vader Emeritus or whatever. “I don’t think so.”

“It’s primarily a Light Side technique. We’ll show you how it’s done and you can join us.” Ahsoka smiled at Leia encouragingly.

“I’ll leave you to your Jedi business, then.” The Chancellor smiled wistfully. She missed the old days of the Jedi. A quick glance from the Chancellor at the other people present who were not Skywalkers or Tanos, cleared the room.

“Here we go.” Ahsoka led the session, encouraging the two young people to join her in touching human flesh to channel healing energy. This was not like anything Leia had ever done before, but somehow it felt right to her.

* * *

“Anakin. Remember Bakura?” Anakin Skywalker did not need to be able to see clearly with his severely-damaged eyes in order to recognize his old master. Obi-Wan Kenobi was smiling at him, still so friendly after all that had gone down between them. Vader would have felt a need to smash, to strangle, to inflict pain, but Anakin was too weary and heart-sore for any of that.

_“Sort of. What about it?”_

“They can grow you new organs.” Obi-Wan was smiling brightly, glowing a brighter blue than before. Is this how he appeared to Luke?

_“I remember. That was before the war. I’m sure it costs a pretty penny.”_

“Since when has Darth been on a budget?”

_“Don’t call me that. You know as well as I do that I was never just simply ‘Darth.’ At any rate, I’m not a Sith lord anymore. I don’t have limitless funds.”_

“You’re still fun to tease, Anakin. Especially now that I’m dead and you’re bedridden. I can troll you with no fear of reprisals.”

Anakin thought a string of Huttese curses at the light tinkling laugh of the ghost standing at the foot of his bed.

“Language, Padawan.” Obi-Wan wagged a finger playfully. “You know where the Empire kept its money. You put it there.”

Anakin groaned internally. _“You want me to go steal the whole treasury off of Jakku. In case you haven’t noticed, I can’t go anywhere. And the whole reason we put the money on Jakku was my gesture of loyalty to the Emperor, demonstrating that I would never go steal it because of course there is sand everywhere.”_

“Ah yes. Coarse, irritating, gets everywhere. Classic Anakin. Send Luke, or even Ahsoka. Or any surviving officers whom you didn’t choke. Anyway, you should share with Luke any other locations of resources to steal.”

_“You want me to encourage him to steal? Aren’t you his master?”_

“Was. He’s a knight now. Now there are two Knights Skywalker.” Obi-Wan was chuckling in that cheekily dignified way that drove people crazy and charmed them at the same time. He was still like this, even as a ghost.

Anakin sighed internally. _“I never made the rank of Master. Not even as a Sith.”_

“You still could be a Jedi Master. If Ahsoka trains Leia to knighthood, she’ll be a Master, which would retroactively bump you up a notch. I’m sure I can convince Master Yoda’s ghost.”

Anakin hummed to himself, considering this. _“Ahsoka was never knighted. She left the Order.”_

“Luke can readmit her, then he can grant her the title. That’ll make him a Master before you. Wow, this is fun.” Obi-Wan’s ghost had a most maddening twinkle to his not-really-there eyes.

Anakin growled, then immediately regretted it. His respiratory system was not robust enough to growl, which was why they were having this discussion in the first place. It was all Obi-Wan’s fault anyway.

“Patience, Padawan, don’t Fall again. Now, where were we? Oh yes. You ought to know enough to allow the rebels to steal all kinds of things.”

Ahsoka wandered into the field hospital at this moment, and stopped dead in her tracks. “Master Obi-Wan?”

“Ah, Ahsoka. It’s been a long time. I was just telling Anakin that you should be Leia’s master. She needs training and you’re the only living Jedi we have here who got enough traditional training to do it. I would do it if I weren’t dead. Luke should not be made to train his own sister. At least, not yet. I took on Anakin immediately after knighting but we all know how that turned out. I wasn’t up to the task. It’s too much to ask. You, on the other hand—”

Ahsoka bristled. “I’m no Jedi.”

“On the contrary, you were right, the whole rest of the Order was wrong. You have embraced balance, fought for our true values, brought freedom and hope to the galaxy. You are more than worthy of the title of Jedi Knight.” Obi-Wan’s ghost smiled fondly at his grandpadawan. The best of the Jedi way would be safe in her hands.

“I felt seeds of Darkness in Leia. She’s not overwhelmingly Light in the Force like her brother. Given my track record, I’m not sure that I’m the best one to train her. What if I fail to minimize her Dark tendencies?” Ahsoka crossed her arms, the white markings on her face cocked incredulously.

Anakin sighed through his bonds to the other two Jedi. _“That is precisely why you’re suited to the job, Snips. As much as Obi-Wan and I loved each other, he could never understand or help me deal with the Darkness that was part of my nature, because he didn’t really have much of that himself. You understand the Dark impulse in a basically Light Jedi well enough to help Leia come to terms with it and deal with it. Besides, Leia is my daughter and I trust you.”_

Ahsoka looked down at Anakin’s life support equipment. “I’m not the only Jedi survivor,” she admitted, not entirely sure whether she could trust Anakin.

 _“Is Ezra still alive? The last time I saw him was when we fought on Malachor.”_ Anakin spoke through both bonds at once.

“I believe he is. And Master Plo, too. He’s been in hiding a long time, but he made contact through our bond when he saw your statement, Skyguy. And there might be others coming forward as word reaches them.”

 _“You had a mental bond with Master Koon?”_ Anakin had had no idea.

“I did. Not as strong as ours, but we did have one. He’s the one who found me as a toddler, after all. I always thought he was going to be my master. I’m happy to have had you, but he was a good mentor to me as well.” Ahsoka smiled at the memory.

“Then you should be able to train Leia, since you’ll have more and better support than I ever did.” Obi-Wan stroked his spectral beard. “About stealing the Imperial funds off of Jakku—"

Ahsoka’s eyes grew wide. “WHAT?”

Anakin sighed internally. _“I put the treasury there because there’s so much sand everywhere, I thought that would make a good deterrent. At least, it would deter me. The Emperor appreciated the gesture.”_

Ahsoka smiled, mischief gleaming in her big blue eyes. “I like this. The rebels will love this. I know just the man for the job.”

 _“Who?”_ The master and former padawan asked almost in unison.

“Han Solo. He was a smuggler originally. I heard all about him on the trip here. You know, Leia’s boyfriend.” She noticed Anakin’s look of horror. His daughter had a boyfriend with a less-than-respectable past. He was all right as Princess Leia Organa’s boyfriend, but now that Leia Skywalker was known to be Anakin’s own daughter, she deserved better. “Oh come on, Skyguy. She’s a Skywalker-Naberrie. Romantic indiscretion and questionable taste in men is coded right into her genes. Anyway, she was kissing him in the hallway. I think he would enjoy a job like this.”

* * *

Sure enough, Han Solo was enthusiastic about this idea. “Jakku? Sithspit planet that’s a giant junkyard, a paradise for the likes of me, and the Imperial treasury just sitting there, mine to steal? Authorized by Vader himself? What’s not to love?”

Chewbacca took a little more convincing. He bayed in concern and indignation at the very suggestion. It seemed to him that the Imperial treasury would be guarded, if not by diehard loyalists, then by warlords and scallywags. At the very least they should have backup nearby.

Wedge was inclined to agree with Chewbacca. This job would not be as easy or as smooth as Han seemed to think, whatever Vader himself had originally said. At least this time it was Ahsoka presenting the plan and not Luke.

“At the very least you should have a smooth talker with you.” Wedge stood with his arms crossed, still holding a hydrospanner.

“Did someone call my name?” Lando Calrissian appeared with a dramatic swish of his cape, grinning broadly.

Han flashed him a lopsided smile. “Yeah, we need a human shield. You coming?”

“Sure. Do I get the Falcon back if we succeed?”

“No.” Han had his arms crossed but his eyes were smiling.

“We shall see about that, I guess. Count me in. With Chewie, of course.”

Chewie roared in amusement. It was going to be an adventure, at any rate. They were the original disaster trio.

* * *

Anakin still felt weak. That was to be expected after years of using the Dark Side to power through the hollow decades, living as a façade covering the decay and grief that was the reality of a Sith Empire.

Now, still lying in his hospital bed, he tried to meditate. The Light Side of the Force burned, stung, like breathing too deeply and going faint from too much oxygen. How many years had it been since he had tried to do anything remotely Jedi-like?

“Focus, Anakin. Your breaths. In, out. In, out.” A very familiar deep voice addressed him inside his head.

_“Hard to do with ruined lungs and a scarred windpipe.”_

“Hey, I can manage it, and I’ve been dead for thirty-five years. With a lightsaber hole in my middle. Focus.”

 _“Yes, Master Qui-Gon.”_ Anakin would not admit this, but having the old Jedi, long-dead—and not by his own hand or any of his minions in the Inquisitorius—helped immensely for him to remember.

To remember the boy who wanted nothing more than to fly, free, to be a Jedi and free all the slaves. To remember the padawan who wanted to prove to the whole Order, especially the Council, that they had not made a mistake in admitting him or pairing him with Obi-Wan, to remember the young man who fought for what he believed in at the time, who loved his padawan and old master, who loved his men, and who loved Padme. Now he had two living mementos of Padme and the man he used to be.

Anakin tried again to center himself enough to meditate properly. This time he did not let the screams and swirls of blood and darkness distract him as he burrowed deeper and deeper into his core, where a humanoid figure crouched, wrapped head to toe in chains. The figure continued to emit bright Light, despite the fetters. Anakin reached for the lock on the chains, which fell off with a clatter. The chains dissolved into desert sand with no Darth Sidious to hold them in place.

Ugh. Sand. On the other hand, the mental imagery finally felt like something organic to Anakin himself, not planted there by his Sith master. He prodded at the quickly-shriveling remains of the training bond with Darth Sidious. A new vine-like bond connecting him to Luke had sprung out of its root, choking off the old bond—oh. Wait. There was still a faint murmur of something at the other end of the Sith bond.

Sith held on to physical existence with all their might precisely because the abuse of the Force was unsustainable, so that there was a steep price to pay at death; there was no life after death for a Sith, at least, not as an individual with any agency as a ghost. Was it possible that Darth Sidious was not actually dead? No, this being on the other end of the bond did not feel exactly the same. Similar, yes, but distinct. The way Rex and Cody and Fives and Tup all felt different in the Force, despite being clone brothers. Anakin had his confirmation that the Emperor had cloned himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feel free to comment! I am the sort of author who writes back. Thank you for reading and may the Force be with you!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chewie is not a big fan of sand, either. Leia has a lot of angst.

Ahsoka sat by herself in the makeshift canteen in late afternoon. Lunch was long over and it would be at least an hour or two before anyone thought about dinner. She pulled out a battered old holocron from her robes and played it.

“If you want to use two sabers, Snips, you gotta be solid on your basics.” The holographic Anakin smiled rakishly.

Ahsoka gazed at the figure fondly. She had told herself that he was dead, killed in the Jedi Purge, then she had made her peace with the idea that Darth Vader was all that was left of her beloved master. Now she had Anakin back, but it was not the same. It was not a matter of his face no longer resembling his old self, or his body being broken; too much had happened between them and around them. They could not simply be Snips and Skyguy again, at least, not right away.

She did not hear Leia approach from behind. Leia watched the holographic figure talking. He had a breezy manner and flippant sense of humor that she found charming. He looked familiar, too, with his blue eyes sparking with mischief, well-proportioned face with features that were masculine but still approachable and friendly, and a riot of light-colored waves and curls barely touching his shoulders. If he had appeared in full color, it would have been easier for Leia to identify the figure, to remember who it was that he resembled.

The holographic recording finished playing and Ahsoka became aware of the presence behind her. She recognized the Force signature as that of Leia Skywalker—no, Organa. Ahsoka turned to face the young rebel leader.

“Who was that? He looked and felt so familiar, like someone I know, but I didn’t recognize him.”

Ahsoka sighed. “That was your father. That’s the Anakin Skywalker I knew and loved. I guess you never saw what he looked like originally.”

Leia’s eyes grew wide. “That’s Vader?”

“Not Vader. Anakin. Same person, yeah, I know, but not the same at all. You never knew him. He was the kindest, most overtly loving person I knew. Master Plo and Master Obi-Wan were loving, too, but theirs was quiet, like a river in the forest that was just wide enough to be quiet and peaceful but not big enough for boat traffic, while Skyguy was like a whirlpool. He’d pull in you in and shower his concern and affection on you with a breathtaking intensity. It scared me sometimes.”

Leia tried to imagine the Anakin from the holocron torturing her on the Death Star, freezing Han in carbonite, blowing up Alderaan, or any of the other things she had seen Vader do. It was hard to picture that handsome blond young man who looked so friendly acting like that.

“The first time I saw Luke, I thought he was Anakin come back to me. Your brother looks like your father did when he was young. As I’ve gotten to know Luke better I see a lot more of Padme in him, especially his personality, but I see what Anakin could have been, should have been.”

“Don’t burden my brother with the ghost of his father. He’s already too obsessed with looking for the good in him as it is. There isn’t any. He’s a monster who should have died with the Emperor.” Leia clenched her fist.

Ahsoka regarded her with sad eyes. “As much as you hate him and wish he wasn’t your father, you remind me so much of him. Look at the way you’re standing, the way you clench your jaw and can barely restrain the urge to punch something right now. That’s pure Anakin, Leia.”

Leia twitched her eyebrows. “Are you saying that I’m a monster, too? That I can’t get away from my blood?”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying. Anakin’s passionate nature wasn’t a bad thing in and of itself. He let Darth Sidious manipulate him into channeling that passion in the wrong direction, but during the Clone Wars, he used his fiery nature for good. The way you’ve been doing in the Rebellion. You are both your fathers’ daughter, Leia. You inherited Anakin’s good qualities, too, as well as the double-sided ones.”

Leia looked down, not defeated but angry at herself. “My father was Bail Organa.”

Ahsoka sighed. “I understand that you see the man who raised you as your father more than the man whose genes you share. As a Jedi I never knew anything about my birth family and saw Master Plo, Anakin, and Master Obi-Wan as my family. But I’ve seen the way Anakin looks at you and Luke.”

“I can’t just forget the past twenty years, forgive everything and laugh, ‘oh Daddy!’ or anything like that. He was there when my homeworld was obliterated. That’s genocide. He didn’t stop it, didn’t flinch. I think he enjoyed it.”

“How do you know what he was thinking or feeling? You couldn’t see his face under that mask and you didn’t have a bond with him to read his emotions in the Force.”

“I didn’t need to. He’s a monster. He was there, personally using the mind probe droid on me, he personally tortured me. He certainly seemed to be enjoying himself then.”

Ahsoka looked back down at the now-inert holocron. “You have every right to be angry at Darth Vader. But you know, you hurt yourself more by holding onto the anger. You won’t bring back from the dead any of his victims by holding a grudge. You have grief and anger and confusion you need to process. That’s normal. I won’t tell you to ignore those feelings. That was terrible advice that didn’t work for your father—all right, Anakin—and seeing how similar you are to him, it won’t work for you, either. But you still need to let that go in good time. Don’t let it cloud your judgment. The Rebellion and the galaxy need you to be clear-headed.”

Leia pondered this. She knew the older woman was right, but that did not make it any easier. “I feel like it would be betraying Bail Organa if I forgave Darth Vader and started calling him my father.”

“That’s understandable. I struggled for years with the idea that my master had become Darth Vader, once I figured it out. I even felt at least partially responsible for having left the Order when and how I did. But eventually I realized that Anakin was responsible for his own choices, just as I was for mine.”

“I worry about Luke. He had an aunt and uncle, plus Master Obi-Wan, so it’s not like he was entirely unloved, but he didn’t have a father like I did. He wants to believe in the illustrious Hero With No Fear, wonderful Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker as his father, when our birth father is a monster, Darth Vader. I worry he’s blinding himself to Vader’s true nature in his desire to have a father.”

“What is your birth father’s true nature, though? When I saw him again here, I saw the remains of the Anakin Skywalker I knew. Of course, I also saw a lot of other things in there, which all of us will have to deal with, but he genuinely wants to make amends for the things he did, wants to help end the war as a rebel victory. He has chosen his legacy. Maybe we should respect that.” Ahsoka put the holocron away.

“That’s not how legacies work. He doesn’t get to decide how we remember him. He already had his chance, when he made the choice to do those things in the first place. We’ll use his intel and whatever help he can offer, since that’s the least he can do to make it up to us, but he’ll never be totally exonerated in my eyes.”

“Fair enough. Just remember, though, that the real beneficiary of forgiveness isn’t the forgiven, but the forgiver. We can still try him, of course, since he has a debt to the galaxy, but that’s separate from personal forgiveness.”

* * *

Anakin Skywalker felt his heart warm whenever Luke’s Force presence approached. The boy was a delight. Despite all the terrible things that Vader had done, his legacy of terror and violence, Luke and Leia were an achievement he could be proud of. On the other hand, he was also acutely aware of being a burden on his children. His reputation would hurt them, follow them through their lives as they tried to make their way in the galaxy, especially as rebel leaders.

“Bath time, Father.” Luke was so cheerful about examining his father’s synth skin and scrubbing away any necrotic tissue, turning him over, keeping his remaining flesh free of bed sores. Even Anakin himself knew how smelly and disgusting this was. His sense of smell was intact, after all. He was rotting, very nearly dead. His son was so young and full of life. He should not be shackled to an invalid who had committed so many terrible crimes, who deserved to suffer and die for the damage he had caused.

Luke’s hands were gentle, his eyes soft and loving. Despite the color being the same as Anakin’s, those eyes were also Padme’s, the way they gazed at him with so much love and tenderness. Vader did not deserve to be loved like this.

After another session of Force-healing, Anakin always felt better. Guilty, but better. He had not explained to Luke about the Sith spells that reinforced his black suit or the amulet that had been embedded into one of his gauntlets, or the chemical compounds regularly injected into his flesh. He had been led to believe that he would die without the needles constantly poking into him and the strange Sith potion injections, but he frankly felt better without them, provided Luke or Ahsoka or even Leia counteracted the loss of Dark Side power with Force healing. He had missed the Light, loath as he had been to admit it.

The life support control machinery in his chest box needed maintenance. If Luke was as talented with machines as Anakin himself was, perhaps he could help. _“Luke? Can you have a look at my chest box?”_

“Sure thing, Father.” Luke even frowned gently as he lifted off the hard cover of the control box on his father’s chest and examined the wires and various gauges and buttons. He closed his eyes and centered himself in the Force before touching them, remembering what Old Ben had taught him about channeling the Force. Luke himself had been experimenting with harnessing his positive emotions, mostly love and compassion. They were not of the Dark, after all.

Oh dear. Luke became truly aware of the extent of his father’s medical challenges for the first time. Severely-damaged lungs, other organs with considerable damage, especially his digestive tract, which had had years of stomach acid churning with little or no solid food to absorb it, barely-functioning kidneys, a good deal of metal hardware replacing much of his skeleton, particularly the parts of his spinal chord that were too damaged to support his weight or allow for any movement at all. Luke had never realized that his father would normally be completely paralyzed, or, more likely, long-dead, if he were not a Sith lord.

Ahsoka joined them in the room, gazing fondly at the scene. Luke fussing over his father, checking his IV, adjusting his breathing apparatus, wiping down what little flesh remained, all of that was a tender sight. The boy was strong in the Force, yes, but he was also brimming with love, like his mother. Anakin himself had been so loving back in the old days, staying up all night with Ahsoka in the Halls of Healing when she was a brand new padawan, not letting healers chase him out when she had one of the various fevers that sometimes spread among junior padawans.

“Hello, Skyguy.” Ahsoka smiled as she took a seat next to her old master’s bedside, across from Luke. After all these years, she still loved her big brother, despite all that he had done and become. Love was against the standard interpretation of the Code, yes, but it had saved her and many of the Jedi survivors she had encountered in the Rebellion. Knight Jarrus and his padawan definitely loved each other, and they had “attachments” to the rest of the Ghost crew, but all of that seemed to ground them in the Light. Ahsoka had come to understand that the problem was not love itself, but the obsessive fear of abandonment that led to possessiveness.

Anakin himself was smiling. At least, his eyes were. They were always watery and red, since they were quite damaged, but the Rebellion had put him in the darkest corner of the field hospital, which seemed to help. If Padme, Leia, and Obi-Wan were here, his family would be complete.

“I have good news. Ezra Bridger made contact. He’s alive. He was never properly knighted, but he did get some Jedi training and he’s fairly powerful in the Force so I suppose he could handle a padawan fairly soon, if we find any Force-sensitive younglings. He’s near Ord Mantell. I haven’t seen him in years.” Ahsoka lifted up one of Anakin’s cybernetic hands to her chest. Luke would not know Ezra, but Leia would. Even Anakin knew him, from a certain point of view.

“If I can grant Ahsoka the rank of knight, then maybe I can do it for this person, too. Wow, I had no idea there were still Jedi out there.” Luke was quite pleased at this prospect. Ahsoka chuckled at his enthusiasm, then let her expression reflect a little of the sorrow she felt for the wholesale destruction of the Jedi Order. She had left before the Purge, sure, but she had still felt the deaths. Luke had never known a time when there were thousands of Jedi. Neither had Ezra.

* * *

Jakku was most definitely not a nice place. Lando barely seemed to notice the sand dusting his black trousers and swishy short cape, or even the sand that lodged in his dapper little moustache. He smiled that winning smile at nothing or nobody in particular, aimlessly amiable, from the minute he stepped off the ramp.

Chewbacca grumbled about desert planets not agreeing with him. Han had to smile at that one. “Yeah, Chewie, I bet you hate the hot, sandy desert. You’re a walking carpet, as our princess pointed out.”

Lando heard a not-so-light smack as Chewie whacked Han on the shoulder for his remarks. He turned around, still smiling. “Can you knock it off back there? You guys are the smugglers, you should be leading this.”

“Are you sure this is the right spot, Chewie? There’s nothing here.” Han looked around at the expanse of desert. “If there was anything valuable to steal, I would have found it by now—”

Chewbacca cut him off, reminding him that they had entered the exact coordinates that Luke had passed to them from Vader himself. Unless Vader was wrong or duplicitous, this should be the spot.

Han almost tripped on something buried in the sand. “Hey! Who the kriff leaves stuff half-buried—"

Chewbacca was laughing now. He had been right all along. He grabbed the metal handle that Han had tripped over and pulled it out of the sand with his superior strength. It was a portable safe of some kind, heavy and solid. He gave it a good shake, hearing clinking inside. It did not sound like coins. Good, it was not Republic credits, anyway. It might be coaxium, then. None of the three knew the combination.

Once they had loaded the safe onto the ship, Han sent a transmission back to their main base. “Yeah, we found a safe buried in the sand. No idea how to open it or what’s in it, though.”

Luke looked pleased on the other end of the holocall. “You found one of twenty, then. The combination number is 7567. For all of them.”

Han groaned. There were more of those heavy safes, all buried in the sand. Great. On the other hand, they could open the one they had first. “Does Vader remember what’s in there? I sure hope it’s not bottles of blue milk.”

Luke smiled. “There should be Imperial Credits or coaxium in there.”

Chewie reported from the hold that the recovered safe did indeed contain Imperial Credits. It was not entirely certain that the organ labs on Bakura would accept this currency. On the other hand, credits might still be useful.

By the time they had dug out and loaded up all twenty of the safes, Lando was a little less smooth and smiley. He was covered in desert sand and exhausted from sun exposure. Chewie, of course, was the most tired of the three, since he had no way to regulate his body temperature on that hot desert planet, had sand lodged in his fur, and had done the majority of the heavy lifting, despite being the oldest by far. It was really not fair dealing with humans.

Han realized that it was up to him to get them home. He was also drenched in sweat and quite done in, but he was still able to get them into hyperspace and on course. Sitting back in the pilot’s seat, he thought of Luke and the old wizard, Ben. They had both spent twenty years on a similar desert planet, Tatooine. Han had spent plenty of time there himself, but not twenty years. Maybe one had to be some kind of Force wizard to withstand it. Vader himself was from Tatooine, after all.

Vader. He had to hand it to the man, the heist had worked out beautifully. There had been no sign of anything or anyone, no opposition, no complications whatsoever. That was clearly because it was Vader himself who told them to go to Jakku. He had probably killed anyone else who knew where the treasure was. And now Han was in the position of asking Vader for Leia’s hand. He shook his head.

As soon as they landed back on base, Leia rushed up the ramp into the Falcon itself and wrapped Han in a hug. “I need to confirm that you got the safes.” She came up with a likely-sounding excuse, but Han knew that really she wanted to confirm that he was in one piece.

Once the safes were all open, a whoop went out among the gathered rebels. Credits, coaxium, beskar, and all kinds of other valuable commodities had been in there. Leia stood next to Han, her arm around his waist, as she took in the sight. Some of the rebels were murmuring that Vader was now a rebel hero; Leia tried to push this idea out of her mind. No, Vader had done a lot more damage than what could be repaired through a single gesture like this. Even if he did somehow manage to do something big enough to remotely approach proper reparations, his victims would still be dead.

“What’s wrong, princess?” Han whispered.

“Vader. Does he really think this is enough to be a hero now?”

Han sighed. “I think we need all the help we can get. Maybe he’s doing this for his own selfish reasons, but it still helps us. I was in it for the money initially, remember?”

This time it was Leia’s turn to sigh. “You never committed genocide or war crimes on a massive scale. You were only a petty criminal.”

“If I’m not enough of a criminal for you, something can always be arranged, you know.” Han was smirking, but this was his way of camouflaging his concern. It was true that Vader had been much worse than Lady Proxima, Dryden Vos, Jabba the Hutt, Boba Fett, or any of the other villains who had crossed paths with Han. On the other hand, it was not good for Leia to brood about it. He had seen some of her more volcanic moods. That way danger lay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feel free to comment! I am the sort of author who writes back. Thank you for reading and may the Force be with you!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A timid Rodian field medic is no match for three overeager space wizards with laser swords. The Imperial treasury safes recovered from Jakku contain a surprise.

Back in the field hospital, Ahsoka was rolling her eyes. “Really, Skyguy? You set the combination to be Rex’s trooper number? Did you ever try to find Rex himself? He was an important part of rebel leadership for quite a while, you know.”

Anakin smiled. Rex always did enjoy blasting clankers and fighting Seppies at impossible odds—just like his general. It made sense that he would choose the underdog position to fight the Empire, too, doing what he did best. Never mind that official propaganda reminded the galaxy every day for twenty years that many of the rebels came from Separatist worlds. Non-human rebels in particular fit nicely into the Seppie stereotype. Even as Vader, however, Anakin never shared his master’s disdain for non-humans, perhaps partially because of Snips.

* * *

Wait a minute. What was that? Leia had been watching the rebels unload the contents of the safes when a strange gleaming stone caught her eye. The Sullustan rebel who emptied that particular crate left the crystal, unsure of what to do with it. It looked a bit like a kyber crystal, like the one inside Luke’s lightsaber, but it felt different in the Force. Leia was not certain what to make of it, but she knew it was important.

Disengaging from Han, she moved forward, leaning into the safe to pull out the crystal. She hit her head coming back out again, causing her to cuss. Han was snickering behind her. He seemed to truly enjoy the sight of the princess from Alderaan cussing like a spice runner. Where did she learn that kind of language?

She showed the crystal to Han. “This crystal feels powerful in the Force, but not like the kyber crystals in lightsabers. I wonder if Ahsoka knows what it is.”

Han knew when he was out of his depth. “Don’t ask me, I’m not the Jedi. How should I know?” He gave her shoulder a light squeeze and sent her on her way.

Coming into the field hospital, Leia sighed to see her brother and Ahsoka gathered around Vader’s bedside. She should probably thank him. “Um, thank you for the intel on the safes. The resources are helpful.” Leia kept her expression neutral, thinking that open disdain or outright disgust for the monster taking up a hospital bed would not be appropriate in this situation.

Anakin Skywalker smiled at his daughter as best he could. It was obvious that she hated him, but he knew that he deserved it. He hated himself, too. But Leia was the beautiful, fiery daughter he had always wanted. Finding out about Luke had given him hope, but his daughter was a blessing beyond his wildest dreams. To think that he had once tortured her, completely unaware of her true identity! That was yet another thing the Emperor had destroyed in his life.

“You didn’t just come to thank Father, though, did you?” Luke was smirking at her. Even though they had grown up apart, not knowing of each other’s existence, Luke could still read his sister.

“You’re right. One of the safes contained this.” She showed the crystal to the Jedi, not-quite-a-Jedi, and former Sith. “It’s not a kyber.”

Ahsoka stared at it, deep in thought. “May I?” She extended her palm. Leia handed it to her without a word.

Ahsoka closed her eyes and felt the crystal in the Force. “I think this might be a regenerative crystal. The B’omarr monks on Teth and Tatooine had them. I’d never seen one or touched one during my time in the Temple, though.”

Anakin squinted at the crystal, but he did not really need to see it. _“That is a Skywalker family treasure. My mother stole it from Gardulla the Hutt when we were still her slaves. The Hutts on Tatooine had them because Jabba’s palace was originally a B’omarr monastery. Those monks had themselves made into disembodied brains.”_ Anakin was grateful for the bonds he had with two of the people in the room, since he would not be able to communicate all this otherwise.

Luke’s expression brightened. “Regenerative? Does that mean healing properties?” Hope blossomed in his heart.

“Yes, it does. Those crystals can amplify Force-healing.” Ahsoka remembered a factoid from her junior padawan coursework. “It works best with Jedi healers, but any knight can use it.”

Luke stood up from where he had been perched on the edge of his father’s bed. “Well, then, Ahsoka, I guess I proclaim you a knight. It should have been you knighting me and not the other way around.”

Ahsoka smiled at the boy’s earnestness. “Thank you. I can see what you’re trying to do here, but I do appreciate the gesture.”

Leia stood with her arms crossed. “You want to try to heal him. I’m not against that. If he can talk for himself then he can stand trial. The less physical care and fewer medical resources he needs the better, too.”

Luke beamed at the unexpected support from his sister. “Then you’ll join us.” Never mind that they were basically experimenting on his father. The rank-and-file rebels would probably find it a bit odd if Vader was suddenly restored to health, but Luke did not care about that.

Anakin Skywalker closed his eyes in silent gratitude to the Force. He knew that he did not deserve this. There was no excuse for the terrible things that he had done. It was just as well that he almost never slept, since whenever he did, he was haunted by the screams. The younglings he slaughtered, the Tusken villagers, his men who died in the senseless Clone Wars, the people of Alderaan, all the people he had tortured and killed, all of his victims appeared in a ghostly cavalcade.

Luke took this opportunity to place the crystal on his father’s face, placing it horizontally across his eyes. Luke held the crystal there and began to divert his own life energy to his father, through the crystal. The Force felt different from how it normally did during Force-healing. It felt stronger, like a water shower after years of sonic showers. It enveloped them both, swirling around them, caressing them.

The Force intensified into a crescendo until it began to scream. This must be the signal to stop. Luke opened his eyes and returned to the physical world. He gingerly lifted the crystal off of his father’s face. Anakin Skywalker opened his eyes, a little woozy from the impromptu medical-magical experiment.

“Can you see any better, Skyguy?” Ahsoka peered into his face, concern drawing the white markings on her face into a scrunched-up pattern.

Anakin could not respond at first. The room seemed so dark, so dim. Had someone turned down the lights? Then it hit him. He had not seen this clearly since the Clone Wars. His eyes had been restored. _“Yes. I can see clearly for the first time in over twenty years. Wow, Snips, you look much older.”_

Leia was staring at him, dumbfounded, once Luke had smiled and nodded at her to tell her the news. Anakin could see her even better now. Force, she looked even more like her mother than he had initially thought.

She sprinted from the room to tell the Chancellor, but in the meantime, Luke handed the crystal to Ahsoka. “This is a revelation. Do you think it’ll work on other parts of him? Would it work on my hand if anything happened to my cybernetic?”

Ahsoka shook her head at the boy’s enthusiasm. “No, it’s not possible to grow back missing body parts. Soft tissues and organs can be regenerated, but bone can’t be grown back. I’m sorry.”

It scared Anakin how open and trusting Luke was. The young man was certainly powerful in the Force, overwhelmingly Light, although he had fought reasonably well, given the obvious lack of the traditional infrastructure for training Jedi. Even his Tatooine upbringing had failed to cast any dark shadows over his psyche, perhaps because he had been a moisture farmer rather than a slave. Luke had not hesitated to do whatever his father said, from the raid on Jakku to recognizing Ahsoka as a knight. Even the crystal he had received and used without once considering any possible side effects on himself.

How had Luke evaded detection all those years? Obi-Wan certainly played a role in that, perhaps maintaining wide-range shielding at all times for almost two decades. No wonder he seemed so old and worn out. On the other hand, Tatooine was a good place to hide. Nobody in their right mind would want to go there unless they were on the run, and the desert had a way of covering up everything.

Anakin gazed up at his son with his restored eyes. He really did look like a younger version of himself, minus the angry edge. His first thought, on finding out that Padme’s baby had survived, had been joy, quickly followed by grief at what could have been, then anger at the Emperor. The idea of recruiting Luke as Vader’s own Sith apprentice seemed ridiculous in hindsight.

 _“How do you feel, Luke? Is the crystal draining for you? Any side effects?”_ Anakin asked over the bond. It was strange how naturally the paternal instinct had kicked in, even as Vader.

“I feel fine, Father. A little tired, maybe.” Luke smiled and gently clasped one of the cybernetic hands. Anakin could see the action now; his cybernetics were so damaged that he did not always feel Luke’s touch before, relying on the Force instead. He felt weaker in the Force as well, having to push down the Dark and reach for the Light in ways he had not done in more than twenty years. No, even longer. Anakin realized, looking at Luke, that he himself might have felt this brightly Light if he had not had the Emperor grooming him from the very start of his Jedi training, undermining poor old Obi-Wan at every turn.

Anakin shifted his gaze to his returning daughter. Why had he not noticed before how much she resembled Padme? It was hard to see clearly through his mask, to be sure, but surely he ought to have noticed that the young princess of Alderaan felt familiar in the Force. Stubborn, cocky, devious yet bold, she had said and done exactly what Anakin himself did as a Jedi captured by Separatists, when he had used the mind probe on her. She was strong in the Force but untrained, just as Anakin himself had been as a child. Her brown eyes were watching him with a hard glare, the color Padme’s but the expression his. What kind of father tortures his own daughter? And yet, here she was, at his bedside in the field hospital, against her better judgement.

And Snips. Ahsoka was stunningly beautiful. Strong, wise, but also tempered by suffering. Kinder to herself and others, now that she had a lot of traumatic life experience. She ought to know the risks involved in trying to help Vader, but she sat, holding the crystal, gazing fondly at him. He did not deserve her love or forgiveness, and yet here she was. He knew she was not weak, at least, not as far as Jedi went. A year ago, he would have scoffed at her, tried to kill her, taunting her for still being a Jedi too weak and scared to tap into the Dark Side. He had already left her for dead once.

“Do you feel up to any more? Maybe your lungs?” Ahsoka’s gaze was soft. Even if they simply wanted to improve his condition to save resources, that was still better than nothing. Anakin blinked, not quite strong enough to nod. Breathing better would be good, being able to talk would be even better.

“I think there should be a medic present for that.” Leia spoke up. She got up and went to find one before anyone could say anything, impulsive and acting on her own counsel with no concept of getting other input—just like her father. Anakin smiled internally at the thought.

As soon as a doctor had been fetched, Luke launched into his explanation with breathless excitement. The doctor looked thoroughly confused and alarmed, but Luke hardly noticed. Back in the Clone Wars, clone medics knew about Jedi and their strange methods that worked when they shouldn’t, but the Rodian doctor here had no framework for any of that. He looked alarmed as Ahsoka placed the crystal on his patient’s chest and entered a Force-healing trance. The simple fact of being responsible for the medical care of Darth Vader himself was terrifying enough, but the way Leia was staring surely did not help.

Anakin felt a dull pain in his chest. Was this a sign that the crystal was working? Was it regrowing lung tissue, increasing functional alveoli? Or was he about to suffocate? Anakin did not much care which it was at this point, except that he could easily imagine Luke distraught at his father’s death. It would be worse than when Qui-Gon was killed, since Anakin had not been in the room when that happened; Obi-Wan was.

Oh. No wonder Obi-Wan had been withdrawn at first. Anakin had not had the mental or emotional bandwidth to worry about Obi-Wan and his feelings when he was first apprenticed, afraid as he was that he might be sent back to Watto. As the adult in the relationship, Obi-Wan should have shielded better, but in hindsight his feelings and reactions were understandable. Apparently Obi-Wan was still rubbish at teaching how to avoid attachments, since Luke was clearly attached to his sister and of course to Anakin himself, which was terrifying.

When Ahsoka finally ended the session, Anakin felt dizzy and confused, with green spots dancing before his eyes. The doctor frowned at some beeping instrument and adjusted a dial, then Anakin began to feel better.

“I don’t believe it. That crystal actually worked. Lung capacity and respiratory function has improved to 38% of healthy levels.” The doctor was rubbing his eyes. Anakin thought he looked a bit like an adult version of Greedo. He must still be giddy from the rush of excess oxygen just now.

“We should report this to the Chancellor. I think we should take it slowly.” Leia was looking at the doctor and not the patient.

“It’s your turn, Leia.” Luke nodded at her. Leia hesitated, clearly conflicted.

“We don’t want to strain the patient. How are you feeling, Lord—I mean, sir?” The doctor looked terrified as he addressed Anakin directly.

Anakin met Luke’s eyes, then Leia’s. It was clear that Luke wanted to proceed. His blue eyes were sparkling with excitement, relief, and affection. The boy was irresistible. Anakin gave his consent, for Luke’s sake.

“Very well. But I should like to run the scanner at the same time, monitor the progress as we go.” The doctor still did not sound terribly confident about any of this, but was using his air of professionalism as a shield.

Ahsoka put the crystal back down onto Anakin’s chest and invited Leia to put her hand on it. It took a bit of urging before his daughter finally did. What was she doing? Leia felt disgust and anger roiling inside of her, but pushed it down and reached for the Light as she had recently been taught, imagining her brother’s happy face. She was doing this for Luke.

The doctor adjusted dials and pushed buttons during the session this time, seeming to take comfort in the confidence that following his training could bring. For his part, Anakin kept his eyes open, watching his daughter concentrate. She was actually touching him. To think that all this time, he had had two children, alive. They should have been a family.

When Leia resurfaced, Anakin’s lung capacity was at 72% of a healthy person’s, which was truly remarkable. He still could not really speak much, given the scarring on his vocal chords and windpipe, but he could now breathe unassisted. It felt strange to have his breathing apparatus switched off, and to not hear his own raspy breaths. He would no longer sound like Darth Vader.

The Emperor could have done this for him, but of course he wouldn’t. It was not the Sith way. As soon as he knew that Anakin had Fallen, the Emperor had stopped stroking his ego or even treating him civilly. Anakin had been had, but by the time he realized this, it had been too late. Regret and sadness were only useful for growing his anger and hatred; there was no way out.

But there was. His golden-haired son. And not in the standard Sith way, of taking an apprentice in secret to help overthrow the master, either. Luke loved him simply for being his father, regardless of his actions. The only people Anakin had expected to love him unconditionally were his mother and Padme, Obi-Wan to a lesser extent. Even Qui-Gon had had an agenda—that burdensome business of the Chosen One.

Senator—no, Chancellor Mothma came into the field hospital when Anakin was resting. She spoke in low tones with the doctor, and stifled a gasp when he showed her the readings. At this rate Darth Vader would be able to speak for himself at his war crimes tribunal.

Best of all, the crystal and mysterious Jedi healing would make his care and treatment so much cheaper, helping her justify treating him better than the Empire treated its prisoners. She remembered all too well how General Syndulla had been tortured when she was captured on Lothal. Saw Gerrera would have insisted on killing Darth Vader long ago. He was not alone in that sentiment, which was why she had tried to keep Darth Vader’s presence in the field hospital quiet. She remembered the Jedi knight he had been with some affection.

In the canteen at dinner, Han noticed how tired the Skywalker twins looked. “Hey, Luke, what’s going on? Leia dove into one of those safes this afternoon and disappeared after that.”

Luke smiled. “That crystal has healing properties. It restored my father’s eyes and now he’s breathing unassisted.”

Han stared. “I didn’t believe in the Force—I do now—but that is something I struggle to believe. And I didn’t know your dad had bad eyes. He was pretty deadly as a fighter pilot for someone with bad eyes. No, don’t tell me—” Han groaned when he saw Luke’s grin. “The Force.”

“You’re learning.” Luke’s eyes sparkled. Wedge and a few other pilots spotted them and joined them, so that Luke changed the subject.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feel free to comment! I am the sort of author who writes back. Thank you for reading and may the Force be with you!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enter Vokara Che! Finally. And Artoo, too.

That night Leia lay awake in bed. What were they doing? That breathing sound had been a huge help in knowing when Vader was coming; Vader wasn’t Vader without it. That was the idea, sure, but those eyes that now saw her clearly were the same eyes that watched the probe droid poke and prod her, trying to get into her mind. That robot hand had pressed the buttons on the controls, allowing the electro-rack to zap her with blue lightning. That brain had made those decisions. Granted that Grand Moff Tarkin had been the one to blow up Alderaan, Vader had said nothing. She had had no way of knowing whether he agreed with that or not.

She extended her hand out above her blankets. It would not take much. Vader may have better pulmonary functioning, but his windpipe was still damaged. She could channel the Force into her ten fingers—no, five would do—and squeeze, crunching the scarred windpipe, making those eyes bug out of their sockets, squeezing, crushing, until the infernal breathing stopped completely. For Alderaan. For Lothal. For her real father. For Han. For Obi-Wan Kenobi. For all those children hunted down through the Inquisitorius.

Luke would cry, but he would ultimately accept it. He would repeat mantras like “Revenge is not the Jedi way,” and get on with rebuilding his fantasy vision of the Jedi Order. With Ahsoka to help, he would not need Vader.

But her real father, Bail Organa, would be disappointed in her. Leia let her hand sink back down onto the blanket. Her birth mother would be sad. When she first found out that the Organas had adopted her, she had been shocked and a bit angry, until the Chancellor had told her about her birth mother. Senator Amidala of Naboo was a legendary figure in the rebellion, as one of the early founders, a martyr to the cause. It had been like a lifeday present to discover her other mother.

When Luke told her about her birth father, however, she had felt cheated. That monster could not have sired her. Certainly not with Senator Amidala’s consent. Finding out from Ahsoka details about her birth parents’ marriage had been devastating. Senator Amidala had not been captured, raped, and martyred. She had married Darth Vader of her own free will. She had fallen in love with that evil monster. Leia clenched her fists under the covers.

Anakin actually slept for the first time in a long time. With the return of sleep, however, came the return of his nightmares. He held his mother in his arms as she breathed her last, but as she looked up at him and began to say how handsome he was, her eyes grew wide and she screamed silently. His mother morphed into the Tuskens, into Obi-Wan Kenobi, the Jedi younglings, Ahsoka, any number of nameless victims with blurry faces. He looked up from the corpse in his cybernetic arms and saw Darth Sidious, laughing under his hood. “She gave her life so you could be reborn, Lord Vader.” Was that how Padme had died? Whether she died from his choke, heartbreak over his actions, having her life Force transferred to him, or complications from bearing his children, it was all the same. He had killed her.

Ahsoka woke with a start. She had not felt her old master’s nightmares in years. With a reopened bond and his body weak, his shielding was not what it used to be. He blamed himself for everything. Perhaps he should. No, that was not fair. The Emperor had orchestrated everything.

But still, Skyguy was responsible for his own choices. All of the Jedi had been subject to the same encroaching Darkness, the same blindness, the growing despair and trauma of the war and the corruption that fed it, the impossible situation engineered by the Sith. Ahsoka herself had spent years on Malachor, been framed for Barriss’ attack on the Temple, abandoned by the Order, but she had not turned into a monster. She had gotten a taste of the Dark on Mortis, but had not Fallen of her own will. Anakin was a victim, yes, but he was not blameless. In terms of sheer volume of tragic life events, Master Obi-Wan had things quite bad himself, but he did not Fall.

Now Luke was trying to reestablish the Jedi Order. An idealist like both of his parents. Ahsoka had only gone along with Luke’s declaration of her knight status because he had been convinced that only knights could use that crystal to heal his father. Luke obviously loved his father despite everything, warming her heart. After all, she still loved Anakin too. The boy would be disappointed if he found out about the many flaws of the old Jedi Order. Being a Jedi was a way of life, a code for living a life of service. They should never have been soldiers.

Anakin could not get back to sleep. He knew he needed to rest, since the doctor told him that every day when he wasn’t shaking with fear, as if Anakin could really hurt him in his current condition, but sleep meant nightmares. He went over his list of crimes in his head again, trying to make sure he was not missing any. There was no way he deserved anything less than summary execution. Luke was wasting his time.

He barely noticed the sound of a little droid rolling through the field hospital to his bedside. When the battered old astromech came to rest next to his bed and began beeping, Anakin gave a start. “Artoo?” He tapped the side of his bed in an attempt at binary.

The droid chirped and beeped and trilled excitedly. “Look, Artoo, I’m sorry. I didn’t go looking for you, but it’s just as well.” It had been years since Anakin had tried to communicate in binary in any way, shape, or form, and tapping his metal hand against the metal bedframe was hardly ideal.

Artoo swiveled his dome, accepting Anakin’s apology, then extended a pincer in peace. As far as Artoo could tell, his human friend was now mostly droid as well.

* * *

A few planets away, an old Twi’lek woman woke with a start. Marzoon was nice and quiet; how had someone found her after all these years? She felt a presence in her little hut. Familiar, Force-sensitive. No, it couldn’t be.

She sat up in bed and saw the blue figure standing at the foot of it, smiling sadly at her. Had she left a holocron out the night before? But the blue figures of holocrons were never life-sized.

“Hello there.” The figure continued to smile at her.

“General Kenobi. How did you find me here? What happened to you this time? I don’t have a proper clinic here.”

“Oh no, I’m not the one who needs a healer. I’m dead. But Anakin needs your help, Master Che. The Emperor has been defeated, and now Anakin is on Endor, in terrible shape. His children are desperate.”

Vokara Che sighed and rubbed her left lekku. “It’s always your lineage, isn’t it, who break the rules, get hurt, and need me to patch them up again. I didn’t know Skywalker was alive, or that he’d spawned. Why am I not surprised, though.”

“He won’t be alive unless he gets medical help. Ahsoka and his children are trying to Force-heal him with the help of crystals, but he needs a Jedi healer.”

“What is it you’re not telling me, Kenobi? He’s in worse shape than you’re letting on, I’m sure of it. It must be bad if you came to my humble hut as a ghost, to drag me out of retirement, out of hiding.”

“Well, his injuries are my fault, from a certain point of view. He’s in the field hospital of the rebel base on Endor.”

“All right, I’ll go—against my better judgment.” Vokara Che rubbed her eyes, cursing the deterioration in her vision and the stiffness in her joints as she got out of bed, coaxing her arthritic hands to open a trap door in the floor under her bed. This was her Jedi healer first aid kit, which included her lightsaber. She was just an old medicine woman now. Nobody paid much attention to Twi’lek grannies, which was a blessing in the dark days of the Empire.

So Kenobi was dead. That did not surprise Vokara, but Skywalker still being alive did. He was just as reckless as Kenobi, and with that midichlorian count, it must have been difficult to hide as a rebel Jedi. At least he had the decency to get injured enough for Kenobi to summon her from beyond the grave. Somehow it was easy to imagine Skywalker being a rebel, and perhaps he had had a family as a cover. Vokara herself had considered it, since everyone knew that Jedi did not marry, but it turned out that being a seemingly unassuming old lady worked just as well. Perhaps Madam Jocasta Nu had survived on the same principle.

Vokara let her face reflect her pensive, retrospective mood on the commercial transportation she used to get closer to Endor, since this was something one might expect of an elderly person traveling alone. One of the bittersweet realities of age was that nobody saw her and guessed that she had been a Jedi or the Master Healer, that people were quick to assume that she was uneducated and unclever, simply someone more interesting’s grandmother, nothing more, nothing less. This was an asset for staying hidden, but not exactly pleasant.

When she reached Cerea, she was relieved to find a smallish ship already there to pick her up. She had made contact with the rebel base on Endor according to instructions given to her by someone who was honest about being dead, which was strange enough, but something in the Force told her to trust Kenobi’s ghost.

The woman who had picked her up was friendly, offering her hand. “I’m Hera Syndulla. I was told I was to pick up a very important sleeper operative, a fellow Twi’lek female. Given that I don’t see any other Twi’lek women around here, I figured that was you. Welcome aboard.”

“Vokara Che. I’m not sure about being important or a sleeper operative, but I was in hiding for twenty years as a Jedi. I suppose that counts.”

The younger woman smiled as she ushered Vokara to sit in the copilot’s seat. “Jedi, huh? The father of my boy was a Jedi. Maybe you knew him. He was born Caleb Dume, although he went by another name.”

Vokara nodded. Here was another Jedi who had changed his name and started a family as a cover. “I remember him as a little boy.” A quick glance at the green-skinned woman next to her revealed that she was fighting back tears that were threatening to spill from her big green eyes. So he didn’t survive, then.

“I’d love to hear stories. His first inoculation, any episodes from his childhood. My son would benefit from hearing about his father as a little boy his age. Kanan—Caleb sacrificed his life for us when I was pregnant, so Jacen never knew his father.”

Vokara nodded and placed a hand on the leg of Hera’s orange pilot suit. “I understand. We’ve all lost something or someone. I guess I won’t be needing this.” She reached behind her head, cursing the reduced mobility of her shoulder joints, unhooking a broad collar-style necklace. As soon as she had removed it, she closed her eyes and let the Force wash over her again. The sweet relief of being free of the inhibitor she had worn to hide made her feel younger, lighter.

Going deeper into her core, she felt the existence of a few other Force signatures that felt like Jedi. They were getting closer to Endor now. “Are there any other Jedi on your rebel base? I came because the ghost of Obi-Wan Kenobi summoned me, so I know he’s dead now, even if he was involved in the Rebellion at one point.”

Hera frowned. “I never met him directly, although Ezra did. Ezra—Caleb Dume’s padawan, sorry, you wouldn’t know him. That was a few years ago, so I think Obi-Wan Kenobi was alive certainly four or five years ago. Ahsoka Tano is on our base. A pair of Jedi twins, Luke Skywalker and Leia Organa, went to Malachor to pick her up.”

Vokara drew a sharp breath. “Luke Skywalker?”

“Yes. Did you know him?”

“I knew Anakin Skywalker. Luke must be his son.”

“Ah, here he is, he’s come to meet us.” Hera smiled when she saw the small welcoming committee at the edge of the landing area as she touched down. As soon as she let the ramp down and the two Twi’lek women appeared at the top of it, Luke came up to the bottom of the ramp.

“You must be Master Che. My father told me all about you.” Luke extended a cybernetic hand to take her luggage, which of course was in fact her medical kit. Apparently the Skywalker penchant for losing hands and arms was passed down to the next generation. Vokara could see even from a casual glance that the workmanship was decent.

“And you’re Luke Skywalker. I hope you’re not disappointed that I’m a seventy-five-year-old woman. I’ve been in hiding for the last twenty years or so.”

Luke smiled at her, looking even more like his father did when he was happy and friendly in the moment, naturally charming when he wasn’t trying too hard to be. He was considerably shorter than Anakin, suggesting a petite mother.

“This way to the field hospital. We’re all gathered around Father’s bed, anyway. I think the Chancellor is there, and Ahsoka, and my sister.”

“The Chancellor?” The word made Vokara shudder, although she knew in her mind that this could not possibly be Sheev Palpatine.

“Chancellor Mothma. Wow, you really were deep in hiding, weren’t you? Like Master Yoda. He was hiding on Dagobah.”

“You saw him? Is he still alive?” Vokara almost let her Jedi cool slip.

“No, I was there when he died of old age. He was not quite nine hundred. Well, here we are.”

Aha, that must be it. Vokara saw a small crowd huddled around a bed in the corner. There was a set of blue and white montrals that she would recognize anywhere, although they were taller now, not to mention the much-longer rear lekku hanging down the Togruta woman’s back.

“Here she is! This is Jedi Master Vokara Che, Head Healer of the old Jedi Temple.” Luke indicated his companion with a sweep of his arm. Hera was no longer following them, having been spotted and tackled by a small boy with green hair.

Ahsoka turned, then smiled. Next to her was a human woman with short red hair and a white pantsuit. This must be Chancellor Mothma. She looked vaguely familiar, although as a healer Vokara Che had not spent much time around the Senate or its politicians. On the other side of the bed was a young woman with brown hair braided into a crown around her head, her brown eyes looking down at the patient with a conflicted expression. There was also a familiar blue and white astromech droid at the foot of the bed. There was no doubt that this was Anakin Skywalker’s bedside.

Vokara came closer to the bed, taking her place next to Ahsoka. She peered down at the patient and nearly gasped. This man looked decades older than the Anakin she had known. He was pale and bald with terrible scars, horrifyingly primitive hardware attached directly—badly—to his body. His cybernetic arms varied wildly in quality, although both looked old. He turned his blue eyes to her and all doubt disappeared. This was unmistakably Anakin Skywalker.

As un-Jedi-like as it was, Vokara began to feel indignation surging within her. The evidence of gross medical malpractice was right in front of her. Given that quality medical care was probably difficult for a rebel to access—

She stopped dead in her line of reasoning. A chillingly familiar black helmet sat on a bedside table, along with medical equipment. A closer look at Anakin’s chest revealed a square black box with flashing lights. She had seen images of that box, along with that helmet. Vokara nearly gasped. This was Darth Vader. Anakin Skywalker had been Darth Vader. Not a rebel at all.

But if that were the case, would he not have had better access to medical care? The indignation began to rise in her again. The medical malpractice was deliberate, then. That made it so much worse. Someone, a medic of some stripe, whether organic or droid, had broken the most basic of the tenets of the healer’s path.

“Still getting into trouble, I see, Skywalker.” Vokara focused on the eyes of the supine figure. This was quite the understatement.

“Skyguy can’t help himself. That’s why we need a proper Jedi master to patch him up again.” Ahsoka was smiling, but there was worry in those big cobalt blue eyes. She picked up one of the prosthetic hands of her old master, the second-most feared man in the galaxy. There was genuine affection in the gesture. Ahsoka had already mostly forgiven him, then.

“Luke and Leia and I have been trying to Force-heal him with a crystal, you’d be better at that. None of us were knighted under the old system. Luke was knighted on Dagobah by Master Yoda himself, but that was far from a traditional ceremony. He declared me a knight so that I could take Leia as my padawan, but that’s not going to be orthodox, either. Luke is trying to rebuild the Order.”

Vokara stared at the young man in question. His Force-presence was blindingly Light, especially for a son of Darth Vader. Oh dear. If this was all that was left of the Order, then they certainly needed her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feel free to comment! I am the sort of author who writes back. Thank you for reading and may the Force be with you!


End file.
